Family Ties
by saiken2009
Summary: Everyone has a past. And everyone has a black sheep or two in their family. When the boys' family members come crashing back into their lives, will it be good a happy reunion or will it lead down a dark and dangerous road?
1. Incoming Trains

Author's Note: I want to say again that none of my stories go together. They are all independent of each other. Hope you like this story. It'll be a little darker, but not too much for you to handle I hope. Hope you like it! And now that I'm done with chapter one, it's off to do some homework cause I have two exams this week…..

Chapter 1: Incoming Trains

Micky sat behind his drum set while his other friends played their own instruments. They were in their house practicing even though they didn't have any upcoming auditions; but they had to always be prepared. Davy stood toward the front of their makeshift stage shaking maracas in one hand and banging a tambourine against his leg with the other. Peter was playing his bass guitar while Mike was playing his own guitar and singing into one of their microphones. They were playing the song 'Papa Gene's Blues'. Davy was doing a little dance and suddenly cried out in pain and fell backward. He landed on Micky's drum set, but Micky was more concerned with why his friend had fallen. Mike and Peter immediately stopped and rushed over to the tangled mess of drums and man.

"Davy!" All three boys cried.

"What happened!?" Micky exclaimed helping to extricate his friend from his drums.

"I stepped on my ankle wrong," Davy winced out.

"Are you ok, buddy?" Mike asked putting down his guitar. Mike and Micky each took one of Davy's arms and wrapped it around their shoulders to carry him across the room to a chair.

"I probably just sprained it," Davy said.

"Peter, get some ice," Mike said. Peter nodded, put down his own guitar before dashing to the icebox. Mike and Micky helped lower Davy into a chair in the kitchen. Mike then pulled out a chair while Micky grabbed a pillow for him to prop his leg up on. Mike took Davy's boot off to look at his ankle as Peter came back with an icepack.

"Guys, it's just a sprain!" Davy exclaimed. "I don't need you to coddle me! I'm not a child!"

"Hey, man, we're just trying to make sure you're ok," Micky said.

"Davy's right," Mike said. "It looks like it's just a sprain. He should probably stay off it the rest of the day and keep icing it."

"Does it hurt?" Peter asked.

"Of course it hurts, Peter," Davy said. "But I'll be fine. I don't know if I can say the same for Micky's drums though. I'm really sorry, Micky."

"Hey, my drums come in second to you," Micky said patting him on the shoulder. "Well, ok, my drums come in fourth behind you, Mike, and Peter."

"How badly damaged are they?" Mike asked. Micky shrugged and walked over to the pile on the floor and started to pick them up. It didn't look too bad. He picked up the only piece that was broken beyond repair: one of his tom-toms.

"I'll need a new one of these, but that's it," Micky said.

"I'm sorry, Micky," Davy repeated.

"Hey, don't mention it," Micky said. "It was an accident. Like I said, I'm more worried about you. These are replaceable. You aren't."

"Well said, Micky," Peter smiled.

"Well, I suppose we can go to the store now before they close and get you another one," Mike said with a sigh. "Davy, you going to be ok here if Micky and I go?"

"I don't see why I wouldn't be," Davy answered. "But we don't have the money for a new one of those."

"We have the emergency fund," Mike answered walking over to the icebox and pulling out a jar of money.

"I didn't know we kept that in there," Peter said with a chuckle.

"Keeps it safe from robbers," Mike answered absently.

"Yeah, who would think to look for money in the icebox!?" Micky laughed. "Where did you think of that?"

"Nowhere," Mike answered. "Davy, do you want us to get you anything while we are out? Aspirin? An ankle bandage or anything?"

"No, I'm fine," Davy said. "I'm really sorry, guys."

"Davy-" Micky started again but Mike cut him off.

"Davy, Micky's right," Mike said. "We have the emergency fund for a reason. And the drums are replaceable. You're not. Stop apologizing."

"But, we worked so hard to save up that money," Davy said ruefully.

"This is exactly what it's here for though, Davy," Micky reminded him. "We can earn it back for the next emergency."

"But-" Davy started.

"Apologize to me one more time for a stupid broken drum and I'm hiding the step stool for a month!" Micky exclaimed. Davy immediately stopped talking and Peter hid a slight chuckle while Mike tried to hide a smile. They'd gotten a step stool for Davy last Christmas so he could reach some things on his own around the house instead of making one of them do it. But Micky had taken recently to hiding the step stool from Davy as a joke and it was beginning to annoy Davy.

"Are you sure we have enough money?" Peter asked eyeing the jar.

"I'm not sure," Mike said. "I hope so." He took the money out and began counting it. Micky waited anxiously until Mike finished. "I think we're about ten bucks short," Mike said.

"Oh man," Peter said. "How are we gonna get ten bucks to buy a new drum for our next gig when we don't even have a next gig to be paid for."

"What?" Micky asked. Sometimes Peter really confused him.

"Well, Micky and I can go down to the train station and try to perform for passengers," Mike said. "It's worked for us before."

"Yeah, and I don't need my drums today," Micky said. "We can get them tomorrow once we've raised the extra money!"

"Exactly," Mike said. "Let me grab my guitar and we'll go. Pete, make sure Davy stays off his ankle, ok?"

"Sure," Peter answered.

"I don't need a babysitter," Davy grumbled.

"No one says you do," Mike said putting his guitar in its case and closing it. "You ready, Mick?"

"Yep," Micky answered. "See you guys later!" Micky waved good-bye to Peter and Davy and followed Mike to the car. On the drive, they decided which songs to play so they could keep up with each other and Micky wouldn't be surprised. They decided on mostly songs for Micky to sing so Mike could focus on his guitar since that was their only instrument.

Once they pulled up to the train station, Mike grabbed his guitar and they went inside to decide where to set up. They picked a spot near the ticket booth, but when the man behind the counter shot them a dirty look, they decided to move a little closer to the train itself. It was pretty empty right then, but they started into their songs anyway. A few people stopped and looked at them, but most continued walking. Micky even heard one man in a suit whisper something about long-haired weirdoes bothering him, but Micky ignored it. A few people stopped and threw a quarter or two in Mike's guitar case.

They were at it for a few hours when Micky noticed a pretty young woman getting off a train. She seemed to be a little lost as she looked around. She carried a rather large suitcase with her over to a bench and sat down. She sat there for a while as Micky and Mike continued their performance. Another train pulled in moments later and the emerging passengers obscured the woman from view momentarily. A small crowd of teenagers walked up to the singing boys and each threw a dollar or two into Mike's guitar case when they finished their song. They clapped and cheered, but were soon ushered away by a very annoyed looking man who seemed to be acting as a chaperone to them.

"They gave us thirty dollars!" Mike said excitedly counting the money they had thrown in. But Micky's attention was elsewhere. As he had turned to look at the money in the case, he suddenly saw the woman who'd been lost again; and he didn't like what was happening. A large man had her by the wrist and was pulling her towards a hallway. Micky made a split decision when he saw the look of terror on her face as she fought against the man to free herself. Micky took off in her direction, leaving Mike confused behind him.

"Micky, where are you going!?" Mike called after him. But Micky didn't answer; he was focused on finding the woman. He made it to the hallway entrance and looked both ways for her, but didn't see her. He stood in the hallway for a second trying to think which way to go when Mike ran up behind him.

"I saw a girl," Micky started before Mike could say anything. "She's in trouble."

"Ok, where is she then?" Mike asked skeptically.

"I don't-" Micky started, but was cut off when he heard a scream from his right. He looked and saw a door partially open about halfway down the hallway and realized they must have gone in there. He took off toward the door and ignored Mike's protests behind him.

"Micky, wait!" Mike called packing up his guitar quickly and throwing the case over his shoulder by the strap. "What exactly do you plan on doing?" Micky reached the door and peeked through the small opening. Sure enough, the woman was in there with the man. She was kneeling on the floor crying. Micky moved to go inside, but was pulled back by Mike.

"Mike, she's in trouble!" Micky whispered.

"I can see that," Mike whispered back. "But you can't just go charging in there without a plan."

"I have a plan," Micky lied. "Barge in, grab the girl and run."

"And how are you going to grab her without getting attacked by that brute?" Mike asked.

"I don't know," Micky answered. "But I can't just sit here and let him hurt her."

"I agree with you, but we need to be smart or we're going to get hurt, too."

"So what's _your_ plan?"

"One of us distracts him, while the other-" Mike started, but was cut off when the girl screamed again.

"Please!" she screamed. "I'm sorry, please don't do this!"

"I have my orders, darling," the man answered her.

"Please!" she begged again. "Think about what you're doing! You'd be killing an innocent baby!" Mike and Micky looked at each other.

"Baby?" Mike asked. Micky didn't wait to figure it out. If there was a baby involved, he wasn't going to dally around out here. Even though he hadn't seen it. Micky threw the door open and rushed toward the man. He only noticed the man was pointing a very small gun at the woman's head a second before Micky made contact with him. Micky knew he was only able to knock the man down because Micky had taken him off guard. The woman cried out in shock and Micky quickly jumped off the man after picking up the gun that had fallen to the ground. Mike reached his hand out to the woman on the floor and Micky quickly looked around. The room was empty save for the four of them.

"Where's the baby?" Mike asked also picking up on this. The woman stood up and that's when Micky realized what she had meant. She had a slight bump on her belly.

"She's pregnant!" Micky exclaimed.

"You little brats!" the man on the ground said as the shock wore off and he started to get up. Mike grabbed the woman's hand and pulled her out of the room with Micky close behind them. They ran from the room in the moments the man looked around for the gun he'd dropped, apparently not realizing Micky had grabbed it. He heard the man give up behind them and begin to chase them.

"Run!" Micky called ahead to Mike and the woman. He knew he really didn't need to, but did anyway. A man pushing a luggage cart passed in front of Micky making him slow down to avoid tripping over it, unfortunately that meant the man behind him grew closer. He felt the man grab the back of his shirt and he let out a yelp. Ahead of him, Mike heard the noise and turned just in time to see Micky being thrown into the wall by the brute.

"Where's my gun!?" he bellowed angrily grabbing the front of Micky's shirt. Mike stopped short despite Micky's wishes; he really wanted Mike to just keep running with the girl. The brutish man drew back his arm and despite the pain he was in, Micky ducked and the man only succeeded in putting his fist through the wall.

"Mike, just go!" Micky called as he wriggled away tearing his shirt in the process. Once he was free, he took off running again. He grabbed another luggage cart up ahead and rolled it at the man who had begun chasing after him again. "Go, go, go!" Micky called again. Mike turned back around and continued running once Micky started running again himself. Behind him, he heard the metal clang of the brute tripping over the luggage cart, but Micky didn't stop. Mike threw open a door and exited out onto the street. Micky followed him and slammed the door behind him, hoping to stall the brute even further. Mike turned down an alley and didn't stop running until they reached another open door. Mike quickly pulled the woman in it behind him and waited for Micky. Looking over his shoulder and not seeing the man following them, Micky ducked in through the door and Mike slammed it closed behind them. All three stood there for a few moments to catch their breath.

"I think we lost him," Micky said sinking to the ground. His whole body ached.

"Are you ok, Micky?" Mike asked him.

"Sore, but otherwise fine," he answered. "Are you alright, Miss?" Micky asked the woman who was still wide-eyed with fear.

"I'm fine," she answered. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that. You could have been killed."

"But we weren't," Micky said with a smile.

"They could still kill you if they find you," she countered.

"They?" Mike asked.

"Yes," she answered solemnly. "He had orders from above to kill me."

"Who are these people and why do they want to kill you?" Micky asked.

"It's very complicated, and I don't want to get you involved any further. I came here looking for my brother. I didn't know they had followed me."

"Where's your brother?" Mike asked.

"I don't know exactly," she answered. "I know he's here in the city somewhere, but that's it."

"What are you going to do until you find him?" Micky asked. He wasn't sure he liked her being out on the street with the danger she was in.

"I have a little bit of money for a hotel," she answered. "I know it's not much, but it's something. I don't think it'll take long to find him."

"This is a big city," Mike said skeptically.

"I know, but I know the kinds of places he likes to hang out. I plan to check those places out and ask people if they know of him."

"Well, I guess that could work," Micky said. "Are you sure you're going to be safe until you find him?"

"As long as I keep moving, yes," she said. "I shouldn't have stopped to take a rest on the bench at the train station, but I was so tired. I didn't know he was on the train right behind me." Mike carefully looked out the window.

"I don't see him, so I think Micky's right and we lost him," Mike said.

"Let us at least drive you to wherever you're going to stay," Micky said. "Make sure you get there safely."

"You don't have to do that," she answered.

"No one has to do anything," Mike said. "But I don't think I'd be able to sleep tonight if I let a pregnant woman wander the streets of a strange city all alone while someone was trying to kill her."

"I'm with Mike on that one," Micky agreed.

"You are very kind," she said with a smile. "Thank you very much, Mike and…"

"Micky," he finished for her. "And you're very welcome."

"My name is Patricia, but everyone calls me Patty."

"Nice to meet you," Mike said. "Although I wish the circumstances had been a little better. Let's get to the car before that guy finds us." The three of them carefully walked out of the room they were in and walked as quickly as they could to the car, Patty protectively in between Micky and Mike. When they got to the car, Mike put his guitar in the back seat and Micky stopped.

"Your luggage," Micky said suddenly remembering the suitcase the woman had.

"Don't worry about it," she answered. "Don't go back for it, please. It's not important at all. Just clothes."

"Are you sure?" Micky asked.

"Positive," she answered. "Not worth you getting killed if he finds you. I have the important things in my pocket. Money, my brothers picture, things like that." Micky nodded and he and Mike jumped into the car.

"Do you already know where you're going?" Mike asked from the driver's seat.

"No, I was hoping to find a cheap hotel," she answered.

"Lucky for you we know one on the other side of town far away from here and that man," Mike said as he pulled the car out and began to drive.

"Might be a good idea to duck down so he doesn't see us in case he's prowling around here," Micky said as he slid down from the seat to the floor. Patty nodded and slid down right next to him. Mike took his green wool hat off and tossed it back to Micky to hold on to before throwing on his large sun glasses to try and change his appearance slightly. They rode in silence for several minutes before Mike suggested they were well clear of the train station. Micky and Patty got off the floor of the car and buckled themselves into the seats.

"So you never told us why they want to kill you," Micky said.

"They belong to a large criminal organization," she answered. "I decided I didn't want any part of it anymore, so now they're trying to kill me cause I want out."

"Wait, you're a member?" Mike asked.

"Was," she corrected. "It's never been my choice. I was born into it. So was my brother. He got out a long time ago. He begged me to go with him, but I was too scared. But now…now I have to think about more than just myself. I have to think about what's best for my baby."

"What about the father of your baby?" Micky asked.

"He's already dead," she answered sadly.

"I'm so sorry," Micky said.

"He was a good man," she said with a smile. "He wasn't part of any of this. He didn't deserve to die. They killed him because of me. I found out I was pregnant a month later." Micky didn't really know what to say, so he didn't say anything. They drove the rest of the way in silence. When they reached the hotel, Mike and Micky both got out to say good-bye to Patty. Micky didn't feel right leaving her alone, but she assured them that she would be fine and she didn't want them to get dragged into this.

"Wait!" Micky said, suddenly remembering he still had the brute's gun. He took it out of his pocket and gave it to Patty. "Just in case," he said with a forced smile. He really hoped she didn't have to use it. She seemed hesitant to take it, but she placed one hand over her stomach and seemed to realize that she may need it to protect herself and her baby. She took the gun and put it in her pocket before walking into the lobby to get a room for herself with one last 'thank you' to the boys. On the way home Micky silently wished that she wouldn't need to use that gun and that she would find her brother without befalling any more danger.


	2. Nightmares

Author's Note:

Chapter 2: Nightmares

Micky and Mike returned to the pad not too much longer after they had dropped of Patty. When they walked in, Davy was asleep on their couch with his foot still propped up on some pillows. Peter looked at Micky with a very confused expression. Micky realized his shirt was still torn pretty badly from the tussle and offered a smile at Peter to reassure him.

"I'm ok," Micky said quietly so as not to wake Davy and sitting down in a chair. He was still really sore from being thrown into a wall. "Just saved a damsel in distress, that's all."

"A damsel in distress?" Peter echoed.

"There was a girl in the train station who was about to be killed," Mike offered. "We saved her."

"Oh," Peter said. "Well that's good. Are you guys ok?"

"Yeah, just a few bruises," Micky answered. "Nothing a good night's sleep won't be able to fix."

"Speaking of sleep," Mike started looking at Davy. "How long has he been out?"

"Not long," Peter answered. "I offered to help him to his bed, but he wouldn't let me."

"Well at least the couch is comfy," Micky mused.

"Not as comfy as his bed," Mike answered.

"Well, no, but did you want Peter to just drag him in there?" Micky asked. Mike was about to say 'no' when Davy let out a groan. The three boys froze worried that maybe something was wrong. Micky looked at his ankle then back to Davy's face. It didn't seem as though anything were aggravating the ankle, but Davy's face still mirrored that of a man in pain.

"Davy?" Peter said carefully. Davy moaned again and rolled onto his back.

"No," Davy moaned. "Stop."

"I think he's just having a bad dream," Mike said. Micky breathed a sigh of relief. Not that having nightmares was a good thing, Micky had had his share of nightmares, but it was better than being in physical pain. Sometimes.

"He does that sometimes," Peter said. "I've heard him in the past."

"Do you think we should get him to bed?" Micky asked.

"Probably," Mike answered. "I don't want to wake him up though. Peter, can you help me try and lift him?"

"Sure," Peter answered. Before either of them could even touch Davy though, Davy jerked, rolled over off the couch and landed on the floor with a thud. It was enough to wake him up.

"No!" Davy exclaimed waking up. He blinked and looked around at Mike, Peter, and Micky. "What's going on?"

"You fell asleep on the couch and had a nightmare," Peter answered. "And then you fell off."

"Oh," Davy answered. "That doesn't explain why Micky's got a torn shirt."

"Damsel in distress in the train station," Micky answered hastily. "Why don't you let Mike help you to bed so you can sleep without crashing on the floor?"

"Oh alright," Davy answered rubbing his backside. Micky could only guess it must have been a little sore seeing as how he landed right on it. Mike helped Davy to his feet then helped Davy hobble off to his room.

"What about you, Micky?" Peter asked. "You look like you need an ice pack, too."

"Does it look that bad?" Micky asked.

"You keep rubbing your neck," Peter answered. Micky hadn't even realized he was doing it.

"I'll be fine," Micky answered. "Just gonna take a hot shower and then go to sleep."

"Ok, if you're sure," Peter said. Micky nodded and walked over to the bathroom to take the shower. The hot water felt good on his sore muscles. He felt the tension loosening almost immediately. Plus he was able to wash all the sweat from his body from running as fast as he had that day. When he had finished his shower and toweled himself off, he made it up to the room he shared with Mike. He noticed Mike was already asleep in his bed, so he put on his pajamas as quietly as he could. He then crawled into his own bed and started to fall asleep. He was half asleep when he heard Mike moan and mumble. Micky sat up and stared at him.

Mike had nightmares only every once in a while. Anytime Micky had brought it up, Mike had rather angrily told him to drop it. Micky wasn't sure if he should wake his friend or not. He'd tried once the first time he'd heard Mike having a nightmare and Mike had nearly punched him. Micky had decided then it was a bad idea to wake someone while they were having a nightmare. But something about this time made Micky re-think that. Mike looked a little terrified and in the small amount of light in the room, Micky could see his face was covered in sweat. Had Davy's nightmare prompted Mike to think about his own nightmares thereby inducing a really bad one? It was possible. Micky had thought about the recurring nightmares he had when he'd seen Davy.

"Mom," Mike moaned painfully. Micky suddenly decided that if he got hit, it would be worth it. He couldn't stand looking at his friend like that or hearing him in pain anymore. He jumped out of bed and walked over to Mike's bed. Thinking the best approach might be a gentle wakening, he placed his hand on his friends arm.

"Mike," he whispered. Mike jerked awake and sat up, his whole body completely rigid. Micky jumped back dodging Mike's arm as it flew in the air towards him. Mike blinked a few times as his brain caught up with his body.

"What?" Mike asked seeing Micky cowering on the floor.

"That's the second time today I've avoided being punched," Micky answered.

"Well, if you hadn't woken me up," Mike started.

"Don't start with me," Micky snapped getting up off the floor. "I don't know what was going on with you, but it scared me, ok? You looked petrified. I couldn't stand seeing you like that."

"Thank you for your concern, Micky," Mike said after a long pause. "I'm sorry I snapped. And I'm sorry I scared you. It's just normal nightmares. Nothing to worry about. We all have them."

"You said something about your Mom," Micky started. Mike glared at him.

"I don't want to talk about it, ok?" Mike said.

"Sometimes talking helps you feel better."

"Yeah, then why don't you tell me why you cry out 'Daddy' in the middle of the night?" Micky froze. There was no way he was going to tell anyone about his own nightmares. Not even Mike. They were his own demons to bear. No one elses.

"Ok, you win," Micky snapped back. "I'm going back to bed." Neither of them said anything the rest of the night. Micky found it hard to go to sleep though. He was afraid that he'd have his own nightmares again and he really didn't want to relive them after a day like this.

* * *

Mike woke up the next morning still feeling very tired. He hadn't slept very well after Micky had woken him. Mike sat up and looked over at Micky's bed. It was empty. That was rare because usually Micky slept longer than anyone else. Shrugging his shoulders and realizing Micky had probably had about as many problems sleeping as he did, he got out of bed and threw on a robe. When he walked downstairs, Micky was sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal. He looked like he was about to drown in it.

"If you're that tired, you can go back to bed," Mike said entering the kitchen. Micky snapped his head up and looked around for a second.

"Huh?" Micky mumbled.

"Did you sleep at all?" Mike asked him sitting down with his own bowl and pouring himself some corn flakes.

"I think I got a few hours," Micky answered. "I'm sorry about last night."

"Forget it," Mike answered with a smile. He knew they'd both just been tired and cranky and he really didn't want to talk about it. "It's ok. Stuff happens."

"Still want to go get my drums today?" Micky asked smiling back.

"Yeah, let me just check the paper for any auditions," Mike answered. Micky slid the paper across the table to him. It looked as though it had already been completely thumbed through. "How long have you been up exactly?" Mike asked eyeing him.

"An hour," Micky answered.

"Maybe you should try and go back to bed a little," Mike offered.

"I'm fine," Micky answered. "I've gone without sleep before."

"When?" Mike asked. In all the years he'd known him, he couldn't think of a single time when Micky hadn't slept.

"Another lifetime ago," Micky answered getting up from the table to wash out his bowl. "I'm fine. I promise." Mike looked at Micky for a moment wondering if he should say anything else. It seemed like something was bothering Micky. Had the real reason for him not sleeping been because he was too afraid of having another one of his nightmares too? Mike had long since known Micky was prone to them, but last night was the first time he'd ever brought it up. Mike didn't want to talk about his nightmares, so he assumed Micky wouldn't either. And judging by Micky's reaction last night, he was probably right.

Mike decided to leave it alone and reached over to grab the paper. Flipping through it, he didn't see much of note. None of the headlines seemed too important to Mike and there weren't any ads for auditions. By the time he'd finished, Peter and Davy had woken up and were walking towards the table. Both of them looked extremely tired, too, but at least Davy was walking on his own now. Well, limping anyway.

"How's the ankle?" Mike asked.

"Better, thanks," Davy said after a yawn.

"How'd you guys sleep?" Micky asked putting a bowl in front of each of them so they could get cereal too.

"I slept off and on," Davy said. "Mostly because of my ankle. I think I woke Peter up a few times. Sorry about that, Pete."

"No, you didn't wake me," Peter said. "I just woke up on my own. Micky, you look like you didn't sleep at all."

"Not really, but that's ok," Micky answered.

"Micky and I are going to leave in a bit to get his drums," Mike said.

"Oh yeah," Peter said. "How much money did you guys get at the train station?"

"About 35 bucks total," Mike answered. "For the first couple hours we didn't get much. Just the 5 bucks, but this group of travelling teenagers got off a train and they ended up throwing in a total of 30 bucks."

"Wow," Davy said. "That's more than you needed. Now I don't feel so bad for depleting our savings."

"_You_ didn't deplete them, Davy," Micky reminded him. "It was an accident, and we aren't talking about it again." Davy smiled and started eating.

"Either of you want to come with?" Mike asked getting up to get dressed.

"Nah, I'd only be tempted to buy something," Peter answered.

"Me too," Davy answered. "I want a new pair of maracas. I haven't bought a new pair since those red ones. I've been kind of reluctant to buy anything like that ever since."

"Oh come on, Davy," Mike said with a laugh. "I doubt you'd buy two sets of maracas with a secret stolen microfilm hidden in them."

"I don't know, Mike," Micky laughed. "With our luck my drums will have a stolen microfilm in them!"

"Let's hope not," Peter laughed. "I've had enough adventures to last 5 lifetimes."

"Me too," Davy said. "I think maybe Mike should pick out the drum. He seems to have better luck than the rest of us." All four boys laughed. Micky followed him up the stairs to their room and they both got dressed. Once they were fully dressed, the two of them waved a temporary good-bye to Peter and Davy and set out for the music store. When they got there, it had only just opened and the shop owner, having recognized them, smiled.

"What can I get for you boys today?" he asked.

"I need a new tom-tom," Micky said.

"I have several over there," the man answered. "Take your pick."

"Thanks," Mike said as the two boys walked over to the section the owner had pointed at. They were only looking at the display for a few moments before they picked one out. Mike walked over to the owner and paid for the tom-tom while Micky carried it back out to the car. Mike had joined him by the time Micky put it in the back seat.

"Ready to go home?" Micky asked.

"Yeah," Mike answered with a smile. Micky looked happy and less tired. Amazing what a new drum could do. Their happiness was short lived however, when they heard a gunshot. Mike grabbed Micky who was standing there stunned and pulled him to the ground.

"What was that!?" Micky exclaimed. Mike's blood ran cold when he saw a woman running across the street. It was Patty. And right behind her was the man from the train station with a new gun.

"Oh no," Mike said as he dashed across the street and tossing the keys back to Micky. "Micky, start the car!" Mike ran over to Patty and grabbed her wrist pulling her down an alley as the man chasing her got off another shot. The bullet barely missed both of them.

"Mike!?" she exclaimed when she realized who had pulled her out of harm's way.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Mike said without stopping.

"You're really making jokes right now?!" she asked.

"Keeps me from going insane," Mike answered simply. He turned the corner just as the man entered the alley and saw Micky quickly pulling the car up the street towards them. Mike ran towards the car, still clutching Patty's wrist. Micky slowed the car down just enough for them to jump in, and then sped off again. Mike cringed as another shot rang out, ricocheting on the mirror and shattering it.

"I thought you lost him!?" Micky asked when they were a safe distance away.

"I thought I had, too!" she answered.

"Ok, Micky, go back to the house," Mike told him. "Be careful, there's glass all over you."

"Yeah, I can feel that," Micky answered.

"I'm so sorry," Patty said.

"It's not your fault," Micky said.

"What were you doing there?" Mike asked her.

"The hotel manager gave me a list of music stores and I was trying to find one that was supposed to be there," she answered.

"Yeah, we had to buy me a new drum," Micky said. "Why a music store?"

"Because my brother loves music," she answered. "He taught himself to play a lot of instruments when we were little. It was his way of escaping from the hell we were living."

"Oh," Micky said.

"Well, why don't you cool it with us for a few hours," Mike said as Micky pulled up to their house. "Then we'll take you around to all the music stores we know of and help you find him. You can do it faster with wheels and you'll be safer."

"Thank you," she said. As Mike and Micky got out, she followed them, but clutched at her stomach for a moment. She looked like she was going to be sick.

"Are you ok?" Mike asked.

"Um, we have a bathroom inside," Micky said. "But I don't know if you can make it there."

"I'm fine," she said taking a deep breath. "Morning sickness. It passed."

"Ok, but I'm still gonna show you where the toilet is as soon as we get inside," Micky answered. Mike suddenly felt really bad for her. She was going through being pregnant alone and was being chased by a man who wanted to kill her. Mike placed a hand on her shoulder as a way of comforting her as best he could. She smiled at him and followed Micky inside the house. When she did she froze in her tracks and Mike almost ran into her.

"Peter!" she exclaimed. She ran past Micky and threw her arms around Peter with such force it nearly knocked him over. Peter just stood there looking stunned and confused. After a few moments, his face changed as he must have realized who was hugging him and he hugged her back.

"Ok," Micky said. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say Peter is your brother?" Peter looked back at Mike and Micky with tears in his eyes.

"Yes," she said pulling away from him, her eyes also filled with tears. Now that they stood next to each other, Mike could definitely see the resemblance. "I can't believe you knew who he was all along."

"Yeah, we could have saved ourselves a mirror," Micky answered. Mike was too stunned to speak. The full situation washed over him like an ice-cold shower. If Peter was her brother, then that meant that Peter had also been born into a family of killers.


	3. The Past Comes Back

Author's Note: As always, let me know what you think! I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this. I must say I'm surprised about the number of reviews I've gotten as compared to some of my other works. :D

Chapter 3: The Past Comes Back

"Wait a minute," Mike said. "Back up for just a second. If Peter is your brother, then…" Mike trailed off, but he didn't have to finish for Micky to know exactly what he was thinking. Micky was thinking the same thing. Peter had never talked about his childhood. Come to think of it, none of them really had except for Davy saying he was raised by his grandfather. Micky shuddered at the thought of the kind of life Peter must have had as a kid.

"Then what?" Davy asked.

"Patty, what exactly did you tell them?" Peter asked her, now looking extremely worried that his secret had just been blown.

"I didn't know they knew you," Patty defended. "Plus I didn't know it was supposed to be a secret."

"So you just go around telling strangers?" Peter asked.

"No, they saved my life!" Patty exclaimed.

"Ok, start from the beginning," Peter sighed. "What are you doing here?"

"I escaped and came here to find you," she answered. "So you could help me, but I didn't know that they followed me. After you left, they said anyone else would be killed."

"Are you ok?" Peter asked worriedly.

"Yes, thanks to your friends," she answered. "Micky did this really daring tackle and Mike grabbed me and pulled me out of the train station. Micky got thrown into the wall, but they continued to worry more about me. Then it happened again today. He found me and started shooting at me and Mike came out of nowhere and pulled me down an alley toward Micky and the car. Unfortunately you need a new mirror though. That sort of got destroyed by a bullet."

"As long as you're ok," Peter said hugging her again. "That's all that matters. Thanks for saving my sister, guys."

"Don't mention it, Pete," Micky said waving the gratitude away. "We didn't even know she was your sister."

"Micky, you're bleeding," Davy said staring at Micky's hand with his eyes wide. Micky looked down at his hand and saw he was indeed bleeding. There was a small piece of glass in his hand.

"Oh," Micky said. He wasn't even really in pain. Mike walked over to him and grabbed his wrist to look at it.

"Davy, go get some tweezers and a bandage," Mike instructed as he began to pull Micky towards the sink.

"It's just a scratch," Micky said.

"You have a piece of the mirror in your hand," Mike countered. "Last time I checked, that's not a scratch." Mike turned on the faucet to the sink and shoved Micky's hand under it to wash it off. Davy returned a second later with the tweezers and bandage and handed the tweezers to Mike first. Mike carefully pulled the piece of glass out of Micky's hand, which wasn't hard because it wasn't in that deep. He then washed the cut carefully.

"Here's a towel to dry his hand," Davy said handing Mike a towel as he turned the sink off.

"Thanks, Davy," Mike said taking the towel from him.

"You know, I really could do this myself," Micky said as Mike dried his hand off.

"Huh," Mike said. "That's weird."

"What?" Micky asked.

"I never noticed you had a scar on your hand," Mike said. Micky immediately pulled his hand out of Mike's grasp with such force it startled Mike so much he dropped the towel.

"It's nothing," Micky said hastily. He really didn't want to talk about it. "Everyone has scars of some sort." He snatched the bandage from Davy and walked away from them. He'd bandage his own hand so they wouldn't ask any more question about his scar.

"Ok," Mike said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," Micky lied. "So what are you guys going to do now?" he asked Peter and Patty trying to change the subject.

"I don't know," Patty answered.

"Who's chasing you?" Peter asked.

"Barty," she answered.

"Really?" Peter asked sounding surprised. "No wonder you're still alive! Barty is the biggest idiot I've ever met!"

"He said he volunteered," she answered. "He's trying to redeem himself for failing to bring you back home."

"Leaving what exactly?" Davy asked. "I'm really confused." Peter looked at Mike and Micky who both looked down at the floor knowing the answer already. Peter sighed before explaining it to Davy.

"Patty and I were born into a very large and very powerful crime family," Peter started a slight hint of anger in his voice. "They tried to force us to hurt other people. They started us off stealing when we were younger. I didn't think it was wrong for the longest time because both my parents did it. We're twins and Mom and Dad used to dress us alike just to confuse people and distract them to make stealing easier. It stopped working when we got older cause she started looking more like a girl and I started looking more like a guy. But they still had us steal things. But when I stole something from a friend at school and I saw what it did to him. So I told him that I'd taken it and gave it back to him. From then on, I started really looking at what my family was doing and who they were hurting. I didn't want any part of it. So when I turned 18, I left. I tried to take Patty with me, but she wouldn't come with."

"I was too scared," she said. "I should have come with you, Peter. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Peter assured her. "But why did you decide to leave now?"

"I don't know how to tell you this," she started. "I'm pregnant." Peter's eyes went wide.

"What!?" he exclaimed. "Pre- you can't be!"

"Peter, calm down," she pled. "It's not what you think."

"Who's the father?" Peter asked.

"It's Alan," she said. Micky could see a wave of relief wash over Peter. Micky briefly wondered who he thought the father was.

"Oh thank God," Peter said. "Where is Alan?"

"He's…Peter I'm so sorry," she said now starting to cry a little. "He's dead. They killed him 4 months ago." Peter's face completely drained of color. "It's my fault. They warned me to stay away from him. I'm so sorry."

"Hey," Mike said. "I don't know who Alan is or who these other people are, but I do know that it is NOT your fault he's dead. You aren't the one who killed him."

"Thank you, Mike," Peter said. "Alan is…was my best friend back home. The kid I stole from. I didn't even know you liked him."

"I didn't either, but after you left, he was around all the time and one thing led to another," she answered. "He had asked me to marry him last year. I wanted to, but knew there was no way Mom and Dad would allow that. They still want me to marry Tommy."

"I asked Alan to watch over you for me," Peter told her. "How did he die?"

"They shot him."

"Who did it?" Peter asked. Patty bit her lower lip and didn't answer him. "Patty, who shot him?" Peter asked again.

"Tommy," she answered. "He did it in front of me. Alan and I ran, but Tommy found us a week later in a cheap motel upstate. Said I was his girl and Alan couldn't have me."

"Did Tommy…" Peter started. Micky got a bad feeling what Peter was going to ask and now understood why Peter had been so scared to learn his sister was pregnant.

"No," she answered quickly. "He never touched me. Alan shot him in the knee before he died. I ran back home not knowing where else to go. But when I found out I was pregnant, I decided that I didn't want my child growing up around any of that. So I ran for a few months and tried to hide, but they kept finding me. So I finally thought to come find you hoping you could help me." Peter pulled her into another hug. Micky didn't realize how much this girl had actually been through.

"Do they know you're pregnant?" Peter asked when he'd let her go again.

"I don't think so," she said. "I told Barty, but I'm not sure if he told them or not."

"Would it make a difference?" Mike asked. "Doesn't sound like these people really have much regard for human life."

"That depends," Peter answered. "Who ordered the hit?" Micky shuddered. It was very strange hearing Peter talking like a mobster.

"From what Barty said, it came from the very top," Patty replied.

"That doesn't sound good," Davy said. "I doubt you can reason with the leader of this gang over the life of an unborn baby."

"I might be able to when they realize that unborn baby is their grandchild," Peter answered simply. "And it's so much bigger than just a gang, Davy."

"Grandchild!?" Mike gasped.

"Wait, your parents are the leaders!?" Micky exclaimed.

"Unfortunately," Peter said. "I was supposed to take over for my Dad once he dies. But my leaving kind of put a kink in that. Guess he got kind of mad over it."

"There's still Percy," Patty said.

"Percy hasn't changed, huh?" Peter asked.

"Who's Percy?" Davy asked.

"Our little brother," Peter answered.

"He's 16 and enjoys the life," Patty added. "He'll be the one who takes over for Dad. Dad started training him when Peter left. They would have killed Peter if Percy hadn't convinced Dad that it wasn't worth his time or energy."

"I can't believe your own family wants to kill you," Davy muttered. "I've heard of terrible parents, but nothing like that!"

"You'd be surprised," Mike and Micky said in unison. They both looked at each other, but didn't say another word to each other.

"So what now?" Mike asked. "Do you think you can convince your parents to leave her alone?"

"I can try," Peter said.

"If you do, that'll put you directly in the line of fire," Micky pointed out. "I think hiding might be her best option. Running away. There's too much risk to you if you put yourself out in the open like that."

"I agree with Micky," Patty said. "Dad's already mad at you for leaving. If you talk to him, that'll only make things worse."

"Can we keep her here if Barty is trying to kill her?" Davy asked. "I mean, if he finds Peter, won't that blow Peter's location out of the water anyway?"

"Probably," Mike said. "So we have to find a way to dispose of Barty and get rid of any trail he may have left."

"You guys really don't have to help with this," Peter said solemnly. "This is my problem."

"See, Pete, we're family, ok?" Mike said putting an arm around Peter's shoulder. "And family helps each other. You're problems are our problems, too."

"Agreed," Micky said walking over to give his own hug to Peter and Patty.

"We work better together anyway, Peter," Davy said joining them. They spent the rest of the day devising a plan to rid themselves of Barty as well as catching Patty up on their lives. Patty told them about Alan and how much she loved him. She talked about the baby and said she was excited to be a mother, but didn't have much time to really do much about it. The Monkees had decided that the first thing they'd do once all of this was over, was take her to see a doctor to make sure everything was healthy. Peter said he'd planned on helping with anything he could, but admitted it wouldn't be much because they were so broke. Patty had just smiled and hugged him (they did this a lot throughout the day which was to be expected as they hadn't seen each other in years) and told him she hoped to find a job so she could support herself and her baby. To which the Monkees also agreed to help her with too.

* * *

Peter finally crawled into bed that night around 11. Mike and Micky had decided to sleep in Peter and Davy's room that night so that Patty could have her own room that night. She had fallen asleep an hour earlier and the three boys had sat around the table talking. Peter had apologized for not telling them the truth, but they waved him off.

"Everyone has secrets," Mike had said. "No one expects you to have told us every detail of your life."

"This isn't exactly a 'detail'," Peter had countered.

"Well, no, but Mike's right," Micky had said. "Everyone has secrets, Peter. No matter what people say about "we're so close we have no secrets" it's a lie. Everyone has something they don't want anyone to know about. And there's nothing wrong with that."

"Right," Davy had agreed. "I have some things I don't tell you guys about."

"And it's not like any of us have ever talked too much about our pasts," Mike had said.

"But I doubt you guys have stuff this bad in your lives," Peter had said. He had been met by three silent friends and they'd all decided then and there not to talk about it anymore. Now that Peter lied in his bed, he thought about what the others could possibly be hiding. Was it as bad as his secret life? It had seemed so by the way they had all gotten so silent. Peter thought that maybe Micky had been wrong. Maybe there _was_ something wrong with keeping secrets. Peter had felt like a load had been taken off his shoulders by telling his friends the truth about his life, and he wondered if his friends felt a similar weight.

He decided not to push the issue, however, but did decide he would be there if and when his friends wanted to talk. And just as they hadn't judged him, he wouldn't judge them based on their pasts. It was, after all, all in the past. Peter was a different person, so it stood to reason his friends would be, too. There was nothing to suggest that any of them had been killers like Peter had almost become. He knew if it weren't for his friend Alan, he probably would have become a killer. It was amazing how such a little thing can make such a huge difference for someone. Thoughts of his former life filled his head as he drifted off to sleep and dreamt.

_Peter sat at a table in a coffee shop waiting for his friend. He smiled when he saw a tall boy about 18 years old with dark hair enter. The boy smiled at him and moved to order himself a cup of coffee, but Peter motioned that he'd already gotten them both drinks. The boy shook his head and walked over to Peter sitting down with a smile. _

"_Peter, how many times have I told you that you don't have to buy me coffee?" the boy laughed. _

"_I really don't mind, Alan," Peter answered. "What are friends for? Besides, I don't like having the money anyway. It's dirty money, and if I have to accept it, I'm going to use it for something good."_

"_Have you talked to your dad, yet?" Alan asked. _

"_No," Peter answered. "I just can't bring myself to do it. I don't know what he's going to say."_

"_Want me to come with you?"_

"_No. I don't know what his reaction is going to be and if he explodes, I don't want you there."_

"_You don't honestly think that he's going to hurt you, do you?"_

"_I have no idea. I may be his son, but I don't know if that matters much if he sees me as betraying him. I know too much about the whole family."_

"_Maybe you shouldn't say anything. Just leave. I can drive you to the train station tomorrow."_

"_I'd like for you to drive me, but I have to talk to him. Tell him I'm leaving and swear I won't say anything to anyone. I just want to be as far away from it as I can. I don't want to be involved with this anymore. I wish you could come with me."_

"_So do I, but I have to take care of Mom."_

"_How is she?" _

"_Not too good, Peter. Her memory is getting worse. She barely ever remembers who I am. And when she does, she thinks I'm still a baby. It's really hard. I don't know how much more time she even has. I'm scared."_

"_I'm really sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help you."_

"_I know, but you can't. No one can. There's no cure. All we can do is make her as comfortable as possible until it's her time." _

"_I'm really sorry. I should get home. Get this over with."_

"_Peter, take care of yourself and I'll see you tomorrow. Promise me I'll see you tomorrow." _

"_I promise," Peter said with a smile. Once he'd made it home, his heart was racing. He really didn't want to do this, but knew he had to. Patty was sitting at the kitchen table looking very sad. _

"_Hi, Peter," she said sadly. _

"_What's the matter?" Peter asked sitting next to her. _

"_Mom just bought a wedding dress for me," she said. Peter took a deep breath. _

"_She's really insistent on you marrying Tommy?"_

"_I hate him," Patty answered. "He's such a horrible man. He went with Dad to murder that salesman last week. He actually enjoyed it and was bragging about it at dinner tonight. In all the gruesome details. I wanted to throw up. He actually tried to kiss me after dessert."_

"_I'm so sorry."_

"_I slapped him."_

"_He deserved it," Peter said making Patty smile. "Patty, listen. I'm leaving in the morning. We'll be 18 and they can't do anything to stop me. Please come with me."_

"_They could kill you."_

"_Well, yes, they probably could. But they won't. I'm their son."_

"_You can't really count on that, Peter."_

"_I have to try. I'd rather be dead than be a killer anyway."_

"_Don't say that!" _

"_It's true. Patty, please come with me."_

"_I'm sorry, Peter, but I just can't."_

"_Go with you where?" asked a gruff man standing in the doorway. Peter and Patty jumped up in fright. _

"_Patty, go to your room," Peter said. "I have to talk to Dad." Patty reluctantly left with one last worried look at Peter. _

"_You don't think you're leaving, do you?" his Dad asked. _

"_Actually, I am," Peter answered mustering as much courage as he could. _

"_I don't think so. You have responsibilities here. To me. To the family."_

"_I don't want them. I don't want to be part of this family. I hate stealing. I hate killing. I won't do it."_

"_Where did we go wrong with you?"_

"_Where did you go wrong?! Are you serious? You're the ones who are wrong! You're the ones hurting other people!"_

"_Enough!" his Dad boomed. Peter shrank back a little despite his anger. "You aren't going anywhere! You can't just leave!"_

"_I won't say anything to anyone. I promise. I just want to leave all of this behind me."_

"_And do what!? You'd never survive without us. You have no skills whatsoever!"_

"_Yes, I do. I can play music and I can write."_

"_You think those silly little hobbies are going to support you? You're even more stupid than I thought."_

"_I'm not stupid. I know it won't happen right away. I can do other things. I will be 18 tomorrow and you can't legally stop me. I'm leaving. And that's final." His Dad growled at Peter's anger and reached over to grab a plate on the counter. Peter ducked as his father threw it at him. It hit the wall and shattered above his head. In an instant Peter's father was on him, lifting him off the ground and pinning him against the wall. Peter struggled to get loose, but his father was stronger than him. _

"_You walk out of this house and away from this family, and you'll regret it," his Dad hissed. _

"_What are you going to do, kill me?!" Peter exclaimed. _

"_Put him down," said a woman with long blonde hair coming into the kitchen. "Peter, I beg you to reconsider this." _

"_Mom, I can't stay here," Peter answered, still struggling against his father who hadn't put him down. _

"_After everything we've done for you, you would so easily turn your back on us?" she asked. _

"_You can't say this is a surprise to either of you," Peter argued still kicking at the air trying to get his father to put him down. "Please put me down."_

"_You know we love you, Peter," his mother said. _

"_If you loved me, you'd let me leave! And you'd PUT ME DOWN!"_

"_You dare question our love for you?" his father growled. _

"_Well, I can see how he would with you pinning him against the wall a foot in the air," his mother said. "Will you please put him down?" His father finally relented, but instead of just letting go, he threw Peter into a chair causing it to shatter. Peter's whole body was sore and he lay there for a while before pushing himself up. _

"_You have both known for a long time that I'm not like you," Peter said. "I can't hurt other people. So I can't stay here. I have to live my own life. Away from all this. Please, let me leave. I won't say a word to anyone about you or anything I know. I promise."_

"_That's not what we're worried about," his mother answered. "You are our son and we want what's best for you. And what's best for you is to stay here. Your father's right; if you leave, you'll never make it. If you stay here and be part of this family, we can support you."_

"_You're wrong," Peter said. "You're both wrong. I can, and will, be ok on my own. I will be ok without you. And even if I can't make it on my own, I don't care. I'd rather be dead than stay here and hurt other people." His mother shot him a look that said she was hurt, but he didn't really care. He was right when he said if she loved him, she'd let him leave. _

"_That can be arranged," his father growled. Peter didn't know what came over him, but he pulled himself up to his full height and squared off with his father. _

"_I dare you," Peter challenged. He immediately regretted it. His father lunged for him and wrapped his hands around his throat pinning him against the counter. Peter barely heard his mother yell at his father to stop as all the air to his lungs was cut off by his father's enormous hands. Peter did the only thing he could think and wrapped his fingers around a knife sitting on the counter. He'd vowed to himself that he would never hurt another person, but if he didn't, he was sure he'd die. He plunged the knife into his father's side making his father double over and let go of Peter. Without looking back, Peter ran to his room, grabbed the bag he'd already packed for himself and his guitar and ran for the front door. He didn't look back, so he didn't see anyone behind him. But he heard the gunshot and felt the bullet whiz by his head. But he didn't stop. He kept running._

Peter jerked awake and gasped for air. He could still hear the gunshot ringing through his ears. He felt hands on him and tried to fight them off, but stopped when he realized it was his friends and not his family anymore.

"Peter!" Mike exclaimed. "Peter, it's us!"

"I'm sorry," Peter said. "I thought you were someone else."

"It's ok, Peter," Micky said sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Peter into a hug that made Peter felt incredibly safe and loved. He fought back tears of happiness. His parents were wrong; he did make it on his own.


	4. Unwanted Visitors

Author's Note: Ok, so this chapter has some drug and alcohol references. Nothing too bad though. And it's not the boys, so don't worry about that.

Chapter 4: Unwanted Visitors

Micky's heart ached for his friend. He'd woken up and heard Peter gasp out in pain from the nightmare he was having. Without saying anything to each other, Davy, Mike, and Micky had leapt out of their beds (or the sleeping bags on the floor as the case was for Micky and Mike) and rushed to Peter's side as he woke up. When Peter had started to fight them, Micky grew worried but Mike instantly jumped in reminding Peter they were friends and he'd only had a nightmare. Peter had stopped fighting, but looked very upset now.

"I'm sorry," Peter said sadly. "I thought you were someone else." Micky knew exactly what Peter meant and did the only thing he could think to help his friend. He sat on the edge of Peter's bed and pulled him tightly to him in a hug.

"It's ok, Peter," Micky said. If only it were that easy to take away Peter's pain. If only just a simple embrace could fix everything. But it couldn't. It would never be that easy. "It was just a nightmare. It's over now."

"Are you ok now?" Davy asked sitting on the bed by Peter's feet.

"I-I think so," Peter whispered.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mike asked. "We understand if you don't, but-"

"No, it's ok," Peter said. "I think talking helps."

"Ok, well, we are all here for you, buddy," Mike said sitting on the other side of the bed so that Peter was now surrounded by friends.

"I dreamt I was back home," Peter started. "I dreamt about the night I left." As Peter told his story, Micky's heart broke even more. Anger filled Micky when Peter told them his father had tried to strangle him which in turn forced Peter to stab him. He gripped Peter even tighter hoping that somehow it was helping. Just knowing that he had friends who loved him and cared about him as if he were their own family had helped Micky when he felt depressed. He hoped the same thing worked for Peter. And he tried to convey just how much Peter meant to all of them by hanging on to him as tightly as he could.

"Do you know who shot at you?" Davy asked when Peter had finally finished.

"No," Peter answered. "I don't even know if I want to know."

"Understandable," Mike said. "You know that you're parents were wrong, don't you? That you are an amazing person who can do whatever he wants to."

"Yeah, and that your music isn't just a silly hobby," Davy added. Micky didn't really have any words; for the first time in a very long time.

"Yeah, I know," Peter said. "But I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't met you guys."

"You'd still be ok," Mike said. "You are a strong, resilient person. And I know with every ounce of my being that you can and will survive. Just look at yourself now. You're family tried to knock you down. The people who are supposed to love you and take care of you. And you didn't stay down. You got back up. And, while I didn't know you back then, something tells me that you are a stronger and better person. You are standing so much taller than when you were home with them. And if that isn't proof enough that they're wrong, I don't know what else to tell you."

"Thank you, Mike," Peter said. "You always know what to say, don't you?"

"He studies a book of speeches every night," Micky said finally finding the ability to speak. Davy and Peter laughed and Mike smiled at him.

"And Micky walks around with a joke book everywhere he goes," Mike countered playfully.

"You ok now, Pete?" Davy asked again.

"Yeah," Peter said. "I just don't know if I can really go back to sleep."

"Me neither," Mike said. "But it's almost 8 am, so why don't we just start the day? I'll make breakfast."

"Sounds good to me!" Davy said.

"I'll be out in a minute," Peter said. Micky didn't let go of his friend just yet. Mike and Davy nodded and left Micky and Peter alone.

"You really ok, Peter?" Micky asked.

"Yeah," Peter answered. "I'm ok. I'm glad I have friends like you and Davy and Mike. Thank you, Micky."

"We're always here for you whenever you need us," Micky said with a smile. When Peter finally returned the smile and the hug, Micky felt his friend was truly feeling better and Micky released him.

"I know," Peter answered. "And the same goes for you guys. If you ever want to talk or anything, I'm here." Micky didn't know what to say. Of course he knew Peter and the others would always be there to listen, but that wasn't the reason he kept things from them. It was more to shield them. And because he wanted to push it all away and pretend it never happened.

"I don't have anything to talk about, Peter," Micky lied. "But thanks." With a smile he walked out and joined Mike and Davy in the kitchen. After a minute or two, Peter joined them, too. They laughed and joked like they would any other morning, forgetting about all their problems. Unfortunately, they also forgot about Patty sleeping upstairs until she came out of the room looking tired and a little cranky.

"Sorry, Patty," Peter said. "Did we wake you?"

"A little," she said. "I was kind of already awake. I feel really sick."

"Isn't that normal?" Davy asked.

"Well, yes, but that doesn't make it any better," she answered.

"Well, do you want some crackers or juice or something?" Micky asked.

"We don't have any," Mike answered.

"Any what?" Micky asked.

"Crackers or juice," Mike answered. "I suppose we can take some of that extra money we got at the train station and go buy some."

"You guys don't have to do that," Patty responded. "You worked hard for that money. Besides, I already owe you a new mirror."

"You don't owe us a new mirror," Peter said. "And really, we don't mind."

"But I do," she answered. "I have some money that I can give you if you want to get me some crackers. I think that's about the only thing I can hold down right now."

"Where did you get the money from?" Peter asked.

"Where do you think, Peter?" she said with a slight laugh.

"Don't tell me you stole it from Mom and Dad," he answered.

"How else was I going to pay for the train ticket and the hotel and food?"

"No wonder they want to kill you!"

"No, they want to kill me because I left the family. They said after you left, the next person to try and leave is going to die to set an example. I doubt they've even noticed the money's missing."

"How much did you take?" Mike asked.

"About a thousand dollars," she answered. "I took it from the safe. They really don't ever count that money. All I have left is fifty bucks, though."

"Well, we don't mind going out and getting you whatever you need," Davy said. "Mike and I can go. Peter and Micky can stay here and make sure nothing happens to you." Patty pulled a wad of money out of her pocket and handed a few bills over to Mike.

"I'm not exactly sure what to get for someone who's pregnant," Mike said.

"Neither do I," Patty answered. "Honestly, I haven't really looked much into this. I've been a little busy with other things."

"That's understandable," Micky said. "Mike can just ask the pharmacist what to get you." Once they had finished breakfast, Peter went to wash the dishes for everyone while Mike and Davy went to get dressed so they could go to the store. While Davy and Mike were gone, Peter and Micky just sat around talking to Patty. They tried coming up with a list of names for the baby, but Patty wasn't sure if it was even a boy or girl, so she was very indecisive.

About an hour after Davy and Mike had left, a noise outside the pad startled them all. Micky walked over to the bay window to look outside very cautiously in case it was someone after Patty. Peter pulled Patty away from all the windows and held on to her protectively. Micky saw a short woman outside climbing the stairs and muttering to herself. He wondered who this person was and why they were approaching the house. Micky motioned for Peter to come take a look and see if he recognized her. Reluctantly Peter left Patty and looked through the window himself.

"I have no idea who that is," he whispered. Micky cringed a little as the woman stumbled and nearly dropped the large bag she was carrying.

"What should we do?" Micky asked as she finally made her way to the top of the stairs.

"I don't think she's really a threat," Peter said as she stumbled again. Micky noticed her hands were shaking a lot and she looked extremely thin.

"Hello!" she shouted. But she didn't really shout it to them or anything. Even though both Peter and Micky were standing clear as day in the window, she didn't seem to notice them. "I'm looking…" she said very loudly. Micky really didn't want any undue attention drawn to them from anyone, so he quickly dashed outside and grabbed the woman to pull her inside the house hoping it would get her quiet. But it didn't; when she wasn't yelling, she was babbling incoherently.

"I think she talks faster than you, Micky," Peter said. "I didn't think that was possible."

"I think something's wrong with her," Micky said.

"Hello," she said finally seeming to notice them. "I was told to come here. This address. I'm looking…" and she started off again in a very fast rate of slurred words and sounds that neither Micky nor Peter could understand.

"I think she's on something," Patty said walking out of the shadows now that it was clear this woman wasn't a threat to them.

"Like what?" Micky asked assessing the woman. She did appear to be very jittery and she was so thin, her face was sunken in.

"Miss," Peter said trying to get her attention. "We don't really understand what you're trying to say."

"Told to come…looking for him…have to tell him…" she said. Well, she said a lot more than that, but those were the only words that made any bit of sense to Micky. And even then it was hard.

"I have no idea what she's saying," Peter said.

"Me neither," Patty said.

"I think I caught some of it," Micky told them. "Someone told her to come here because she's looking for someone to tell him something? Maybe?"

"Ok, who is she looking for?" Peter asked. "I've never seen her before."

"Me neither," Micky answered. "Maybe she's lost."

"Wouldn't exactly surprise me," Peter said. "She doesn't seem to be all there, does she?"

"I think that might be the drugs," Patty said.

"So what should we do?" Peter asked. "Should we call the police and let them deal with her?"

"They're just going to throw her in a cell and let her detox for the night," Patty said.

"I think she needs a little detox right now," Micky muttered.

"Who are you?" she said turning on Micky causing him to take a slight step back.

"My uh…my name is Micky," he answered. "Who are you?"

"Where is he?" she asked a little more forcefully. Micky saw a drop of blood fall from her nose and land on her bag.

"Maybe we should call an ambulance?" Micky said pointing at the woman's new nosebleed.

"Where is he?" the woman asked again.

"I don't know who you're looking for, Miss," he answered.

"Where is he?" she repeated.

"Where is who?" Peter asked.

"I don't know if you guys are going to get anywhere with her like this," Patty said.

"Let's just call an ambulance," Micky said. "They can take her to the hospital. It's a better place to detox than jail."

"Yeah," Peter said. Micky started to move toward the phone but was stopped when the woman suddenly dropped her bag on the ground and rushed toward him. She grabbed him by the collar on his shirt and Micky was startled by the speed and energy she seemed to have.

"Don't let them take me away!" she exclaimed.

"Ok, ok," Peter said walking over to them. Micky raised his hands up in the air to try and show her he wasn't threatening her. "Just calm down, Miss. We're going to help you. No one is going to take you away, ok?"

"Don't let them take me!" she repeated and then started in on another string of incoherent speed-talk.

"Please, Miss," Peter pled putting his hands on hers and trying to get her to let Micky go. Micky was too afraid to struggle against this woman. She looked as though she would snap like a twig any minute. "No one is going to hurt you, but you have to let my friend go." But she didn't hear Peter's pleas over her loud babbling.

"Miss," Patty said trying her hand now. "Please let him go, ok? We promise if you let him go, we won't call the police or an ambulance. No one is going to take you anywhere. And we'll help you find whoever you're looking for, but you have to tell us who that is, ok?"

"You know where he is!" the woman cried.

"No, we don't," Peter said. The woman pulled a small switchblade out of her pocket and held it up to Micky's throat. He really didn't know what to do now. If he fought back, there was a chance she could hurt him. This woman seemed really paranoid, so his only chance of getting out of this unscathed was to try and talk her down. Peter and Patty seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

"Whoa," Patty said as she and Peter both put their hands in the air too. They were trying to show her that they meant this woman no harm. As long as she didn't hurt Micky that is.

"Ok, put that away, please," Peter pled a little more forcefully. "No one is going to get hurt if you just put that away."

"What did you do to him!?" the woman shrieked.

"We didn't do anything," Peter answered.

"We don't even know who you are talking about," Patty added.

"Please, Ma'am," Micky pled feeling the cold blade against his throat as he spoke. "We don't know what you want. We don't want to hurt you. We promise. I'll back away from the phone. But you have to let me go. Please."

"You are hiding him from me!" she shrieked.

"I promise we aren't hiding him!" Micky protested.

"The only person we're hiding is my sister," Peter said. "We don't know who you're looking for. You have to talk to us."

"I'll kill you if you don't tell me what you did to him!" she exclaimed. Her speech was getting fast again and Micky wasn't sure how he even understood her. Her eyes looked empty and dead. Her pupils were dilated more than Micky had ever seen before. He couldn't read what was going on with her. She was jumping from anxious to paranoid within seconds.

"Let him go," Davy said from the doorway. Micky hadn't even heard them get home and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or scared that they'd come back to this. But the look on Davy's face was anything but fear. His voice was colder than Micky had ever heard it before.

"What is going on?" Mike asked from behind Davy. He rushed to go help Micky, but Davy grabbed his sleeve and held him back. Mike looked back at him questioningly.

"Let him go," Davy repeated. The woman finally seemed to hear him and turned to face him. Her grip on Micky loosened enough for him to twist free and he ran to the other side of the kitchen just trying to get away from her.

"David!" she exclaimed.

"You know this woman?!" Micky exclaimed. The woman started babbling incoherently again to Davy, but Davy just appeared to be ignoring her.

"I guess she wasn't lost after all," Peter mumbled as he pulled Patty away from the crazed woman.

"What happened?" Davy asked. "What is she doing here?"

"She was yelling on the patio," Micky started. "And I didn't want her drawing attention to us, so I pulled her in the house to get her to stop yelling. Then she started babbling about looking for someone. Guess she was looking for you, but she wasn't really making any sense."

"Why was she holding a knife to your throat!?" Mike asked.

"I don't really know," Micky answered. "I suggested that we call an ambulance or something because she looks really sick and appears to be on drugs or something and she freaked out. Started saying things like 'Don't let them take me away' and 'What did you do to him' and stuff. I guess she was referring to you; thought that we had done something to hide you or hurt you. Who is this woman?"

"Her name is Brittainy," Davy answered as he moved towards the woman's bag. "What are you doing here, Brittainy?"

"She said something about having to tell you something," Peter offered. "We think. She was kind of hard to understand."

"What is it you want to tell me?" Davy asked her with a heavy sigh.

"Have to find him," she started babbling again. "Have to tell him."

"You found me," Davy said. "Now what do you have to tell me?"

"Tell him…" she said trailing off and whispering really fast now. Davy rolled his eyes and started searching through her bag.

"Davy, I'm not so sure you should do that," Mike said.

"It's fine," Davy said. "I want to figure out what she's on." He dug around for a minute and pulled out a rolled up washcloth. When he unrolled it, there was a spoon, a needle, a small baggie of a white powder, and a lighter tucked in it.

"Wow," Peter said. "What is that?"

"Cocaine," Davy said absently and walked to the woman and grabbed her arm. He looked at the inside of her elbow and sighed again. "You just did that, didn't you!?" he exclaimed. Micky looked a little closer and saw a small needle puncture in her arm that did indeed look very fresh. The woman started babbling again in response. Davy went back to the bag and pulled out a rather large bottle of vodka. "Have a drink, Brittainy. It'll balance you out and maybe I can understand what you're talking about." Brittainy's eyes lit up at the sight of the bottle of alcohol. She snatched it from Davy and downed the entire bottle. Micky felt like he wanted to throw up just watching it. "Feel better?" Davy asked when she'd finally finished the bottle. "Now talk. What are you doing here?"

"David!" she exclaimed again as though this were the first time she'd seen him. She grabbed him and Mike, Peter, and Micky all dashed towards them until the realized she was hugging him.

"Get off me!" he snapped angrily as he pushed her away. "What in the world are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone!"

"How dare you talk to me like that!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, give me a break," Davy said. "I have half a mind to just call the cops."

"No, please, don't do that," she said.

"You have about 5 seconds to tell me what you're doing here," Davy said. "Or I will."

"He's dead," she said.

"Who's dead?" Davy asked.

"Your father," she answered. The entire room fell silent.

"Davy," Mike started.

"Don't, Mike," Davy said. Micky noticed Davy's face didn't show sadness or grief, but still showed anger and rage. "I really don't care. Why did you have to come all the way over here to tell me that?"

"You don't care that your father is dead?" Peter asked.

"No, in my opinion he died a long time ago," Davy answered. "I grieved for him then."

"David," Brittainy said. "You are a cold boy."

"No, I'm not," he spat. "I just don't care about either of you. And considering what the two of you put me through, I doubt that anyone would blame me. Grandpa sure doesn't care that I hate the both of you. In fact, he hates you too!"

"How can he hate his own son?"

"I said he hates you. He loves the person his son used to be before you got a hold of him. But seeing as how I never knew that person, I simply hate him. Why did you have to come all the way over here to tell me? You could have written. You could have called. You could have told Grandpa who would have told me somehow. Heck, I could have lived the rest of my life not knowing or caring!"

"David…"

"No, don't bother, I know why you came. If he's dead then that means I get an inheritance, right? That's why you're here, isn't it. You never married him, so the inheritance doesn't go to you, it goes to me. I'd be surprised if there's even anything left. But if there is, I'm not giving you a dime."

"Your father would have wanted…"

"I don't give a flying donkey what he would have wanted! I'm not giving you any more money so you can keep getting high and drunk all freaking day!" Davy grabbed the needle sitting on the washcloth and threw it on the ground causing it to shatter and smash.

"David!" she exclaimed running over and trying to salvage it. The sight was sickening.

"Get out of my house," Davy snarled shoving her bag on the floor next to her. Brittainy started crying. Mike, Peter, Micky and Patty all stood where they were, frozen in shock. Micky had never seen Davy like this before. He felt really bad for his friend. "Stop crying," Davy spat. "Get out of my house!" Suddenly Brittainy went rigid and she collapsed on the ground. Mike ran over to see what had happened. Micky and Peter were frozen in place. Davy just turned his back on her.

"She passed out," Mike said after inspecting her.

"That's all I need right now," Davy said.

"We should call someone," Peter said. "An ambulance or something."

"She'll be fine," Davy argued. "She does this all the time."

"Who exactly is this woman, Davy?" Mike said standing up and staring Davy down.

"She's…" Davy started but seemed unable to finish.

"Davy…" Mike pushed.

"She's my mother, ok?" Davy spat.


	5. A Promise Made

Author's Note: Just like always, tell me what you think. If I see questions posed in reviews, I try and have them answered in the coming chapters. For instance, Ponderoso asked a few questions in his last review, so I tried to answer them in this chapter. Sometimes I get stuck and something someone says in a review inspires me. So just let me know what you like and what you don't like!

Chapter 5: A Promise Made

"She's your mother?" Mike repeated completely taken aback. Sure, Davy had never talked about his family, but this was still a huge surprise for all of them.

"Yes, but only by blood," Davy answered with a sigh. "I haven't viewed her as being anything else for a long time. I did when I was little, but that was before I knew better."

"Is this why your grandfather raised you?" Micky asked taking the question right from Mike's mouth.

"Yes," Davy sighed again and sat down on a chair. It looked as if he was preparing himself for something he knew would be excruciating. "I suppose I can't really hide the truth anymore. And If Peter can come clean about his parents, I can talk about mine. My father used to be this big shot lawyer. He made a lot of money, but then he met Brittainy." Davy motioned to the still motionless woman on the ground and his voice dripped with contempt when he said her name. "She was a client of his and an alcoholic. For some reason he fell in love with her and she dragged him down with her. He started drinking in excess right along with her. She started doing drugs, and so did he. My grandfather saw it all happen. He told me he tried multiple times to get my father to leave her, and it worked once, but then she became pregnant with what would have been my older brother. He died before he even had a chance. A year later she got pregnant with me. My grandfather tried from the beginning to take me away from them, but he didn't have the legal right to do anything for a long time. It wasn't until I was 10 that I was finally removed, but by then they were into really hard drugs and passing out constantly. I'd come home from school and they wouldn't even know who I was. The kids at school used to pick on me because I'd never have clean clothes or anything. I had a gym teacher who would sneak me into the locker room early in the morning just so I could take a shower. And another teacher would always sneak a sandwich in my backpack when no one else was looking. But still the police didn't take me away until someone tipped them off that my parents were trying to…to sell me."

"Sell you!?" Peter exclaimed. Mike's heart broke for his little friend.

"Yeah," Davy said. "They ran out of money and some guy offered them what here would be a thousand dollars to take me into some sort of labor camp. I'm not sure who tipped the police off about it, but they finally took me away and my grandfather stepped in to raise me."

"That's horrible," Micky said.

"Who could sell their own kid?" Peter asked.

"Someone who didn't give a damn about their kid," Mike answered. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Davy."

"I haven't seen her for years," Davy said now staring daggers at the woman on the ground. "She tried to get me back several times. I never figured out why to be honest. I saw her once right before I came here. She was high as a kite then, too. My grandfather told her if she didn't leave, he'd call the police and have her arrested for trespassing."

"Did she leave?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Davy answered. "I caught her before she left though and told her that I never wanted to see her again. She seemed pretty upset about that."

"Well, she's your mother," Peter said. "Some part of her must love you."

"Yeah right," Davy laughed. "She never loved me."

"You think she just wanted you for the money?" Micky asked again thinking the exact same thing Mike had been.

"Probably," Davy said. "My grandmother died before I was born. Before any of this happened. My grandfather set up a trust for my dad with the money she left him. From what I heard, there was some left when they met, but my grandfather cut my dad off when he started using the money to buy drugs. My grandfather always hoped that my dad would come clean and leave her, but that never happened. And they never bothered to get married. They couldn't ever afford it. All their money was spent on drugs. So now that he's dead, the money gets passed down to me."

"So should we just call the police and let them deal with her?" Mike asked coming to the conclusion that Davy didn't want anything to do with her. Not that he really blamed Davy at all.

"Yeah," Davy said. "Charge her with assault, Micky."

"She didn't really assault him," Peter said. Mike looked at Peter trying to tell him to just let it be. He wasn't really getting it because his parents had sort of shown love for him. At least they put clean clothes on his back and kept food in his stomach. He didn't really understand how you could hate a parent so much that you'd treat them like any other jerk off the street. Sometimes even worse.

"She held a knife to my throat, Peter," Micky said. "And if Davy wants me to tell that to the cops, I will. She could have killed me with a slip of her hand."

"Besides, she needs help, Peter," Patty added. "Maybe facing prison time will be a wakeup call for her."

"It wasn't for our parents," Peter argued.

"Were your parents ever charged with anything?" Mike asked.

"Not really," Peter answered. "They came close to it a few times, but they paid off the district attorney in one case."

"And they threatened another district attorney who wouldn't take the bribe," Patty added.

"Or they just blackmailed people," Peter said. "And sometimes charges just never stuck because there wasn't enough evidence."

"Well, I think this is a little different," Micky said.

"Not really," Davy said. "She's spent time in jail before. She hates it. That's why she freaks out when someone says they're going to report her. She was in jail for a year after she tried to sell me."

"Really?! Just a year!?" Micky asked.

"Yeah, well, I guess she made a deal with the prosecution or something," Davy said. "Grandpa said he really didn't want me to have to testify against her. He said I was going through enough already and didn't want to add more trauma."

"That was nice of him," Micky said.

"Yeah, well, I sort of wish he hadn't done that," Davy said. "Maybe she could have gone to jail a lot longer than that."

"Don't be so sure of that," Mike said. "Your grandfather is a very smart man. I would trust his judgment on that."

"I agree," Peter said. "I don't think I would have been able to testify against my parents at that age."

"What about now?" Davy asked.

"Now that they've tried to kill my sister you mean?" Peter asked. "Heck yes! But it's not like that's going to happen. They have people on the inside now. Some of them are cops, lawyers, doctors, even judges. They can't be touched."

"Well, let's hope that changes," Micky said. "They deserve to be in jail. And so does Brittainy. I'm gonna go call them." Micky walked over to the phone and everyone was quiet while he made the call. Mike walked over to Davy and pulled a chair up next to him.

"You gonna be ok, Davy?" Mike asked when Micky had announced the police and an ambulance were on their way.

"Yeah," Davy answered rather unconvincingly. "I wanna know more than anything how she found me. There's no way Grandpa would tell her anything."

"Is there anyone else who could have told her?" Mike asked. "Maybe her parents?"

"No," Davy said. "Her parents died when she was young. She has a sister, but I've never met her. The only person who knows us both is Grandpa."

"Well, Patty said she knew Peter was into music and was planning on asking around some music stores to find him," Micky said. "Maybe your mom did the same thing."

"Brittainy doesn't really know I'm into music," Davy said. "I used to ride horses a lot in my free time as a way of escaping, but I didn't discover music till after I moved in with Grandpa. And I never spoke to her after that other than to tell her how much I hated her."

"Besides that, Patty knew I was in Malibu because I wrote Alan a letter shortly after I got here to tell him," Peter said. "How would she have known Davy was in Malibu?"

"Good point," Micky said. "Well, you can ask her when she wakes up."

"I intend to," Davy said. "I want to know who told her where I was." It was only a few minutes later that they heard police sirens followed by a knock on the door. Mike stayed by Davy's side, so Peter moved to let them in the house. Patty had told them not to say anything to the police about her because she wasn't sure if any of them were part of the organization her parents belonged to. Mike was a little disgusted to think that some of the cops meant to protect them were actually members of a criminal organization who had either been bought off, tempted by their own avarice, or just plants meant to sniff out information for the other side. So as Peter had answered the door, Patty had ducked into the bathroom to wait for them to leave; just in case.

The paramedics gathered Brittainy off the floor and put her on a stretcher before loading her in the ambulance. The police listened carefully as Davy and Peter relayed exactly what had transpired with Brittainy. Davy went into a little detail about her past criminal acts and her drug abuse while Peter explained what she had done to Micky. While they did that, police officers looked over Micky to ensure he wasn't hurt and didn't need to follow his attacker to the hospital. Micky insisted that he was fine, and when they asked about the bandage on his hand, he lied and told them that he had cut himself on accident in the kitchen the day before.

"Alright, Mr. Dolenz," said the lead detective. "I'm going to need you to come down to the station and fill out a complaint form if you want to press charges." Micky looked at Davy and silentely asked Davy if he was sure about this. Davy nodded in Micky's direction.

"Alright," Micky told the officer.

"I'll go with you," Davy said. "If she's here legally, I want to make sure I have a restraining order against her."

"That's alright, son," the officer said. "We will also need to get some information on your father to look into his death."

"Why?" Davy asked.

"We need to verify his cause of death and notify the proper authorities in case he's a John Doe somewhere," the officer said. "And if he is dead, since you are next of kin, we'll need to arrange for his body to be released to you."

"Why me?" Davy asked. "I don't want anything to do with him."

"I understand that, son, but we can't leave him sitting in a morgue somewhere."

"I really don't care what you do with him," Davy said.

"I understand. We'll deal with that if and when it arises."

"Want me to go with you, Davy?" Mike asked. Davy looked at him with a grateful expression.

"No thanks, Mike," Davy said. "I'll have Micky with me and you should stay here with Peter." Mike nodded. He really wanted to go with his friend to support him, but Davy had a point. Micky would be there to offer him all the support he needed and Peter shouldn't really be left alone with Patty in case something happened. Patty needed more protection than Davy did right now. So as much as he wanted to support his friend, he stayed behind while Micky and Davy went to the police station.

* * *

Micky signed the last piece of paper the police asked him to: a hard copy of his statement saying that Brittainy had pulled a switchblade on him and held it against his throat. The police told him they weren't sure how much time she'd serve, but they had looked up to see that she was in the country legally so they could charge her without deporting her to England. Once the paperwork was signed, they led Micky out to a waiting room to sit and wait for Davy. They said they were finishing up a few things with him and that Davy would be out momentarily.

Micky sat in a chair against the wall and looked around at his surroundings. There was a police officer behind the desk acting as a sort of secretary. Someone would come in and briefly describe to him what they were there for, and she would direct them where to go or call another officer to lead them into a side room. There was a couple sitting in the corner of the room in handcuffs and Micky briefly wondered what they'd done to get arrested. He soon found out, however, as an officer came over to them and told them they were being charged with public indecency. Micky laughed a little as he thought about what they might have been doing to be charged with such a crime. His laugh was short lived, however, when he saw a little girl sitting by herself in another corner.

She looked very sad and was clutching a doll tightly to her chest. She had long, curly brown hair that fell in front of her face, but when she reached up to wipe a tear from her face, Micky could clearly see a very large and very dark bruise on her face. His heart instantly broke for the girl. He recognized a hand shaped bruise around her wrist from where someone must have grabbed her very tightly. An officer was trying to talk to her, but she wasn't answering any of the officer's questions which caused him to get very annoyed and he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it.

"Little girl, you really need to tell me your name," the officer said a little angrily. "How are we supposed to get you home to your parents if you don't tell us your name?" The little girl just sat there. The officer sighed and tried again. "Please, little girl. I want to help you get home to your parents, but I can't do anything unless you talk to me. I'm sure you're parents are worried about you. Don't you want to go home and see them?" Again the little girl just sat there. "Do you even speak English?" the officer asked angrily. Micky started to get upset at the officer's ineptitude. Getting angry with the little girl wasn't going to help get her to open up at all. Another officer walked over to the one asking the girl questions.

"She say anything yet, Blaine?" he asked as he approached. Officer Blaine stood up and walked away from the girl shaking his head rather angrily.

"No," he said. "She's still completely shut down. I'm gonna get some coffee. Try again in a little bit."

"Sure thing," the other officer said as they both walked out of the waiting room. Micky looked over at the girl and she looked up at him. He saw fear and sadness filling her eyes. Micky smiled and walked over to the girl before kneeling down to be on her level.

"Hi," Micky said. "I'm Micky. That's a really pretty doll you have." She looked at him questioningly. He smiled as warmly as he could, trying to make her feel comfortable.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Did your mommy and daddy give that to you?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No," she whispered. "My teacher gave her to me."

"That's a really nice teacher."

"She told me to keep it a secret. She's not allowed to give us gifts."

"Well, I won't tell anyone if you won't." The little girl shook her head again. "Does your doll have a name?"

"Her name is Jenny."

"That's a nice name. Did you name her all by yourself?"

"Uh-huh," the girl said nodding her head. "She's supposed to keep me protected."

"Does she do a good job of that?" Micky asked looking at the bruise on her cheek.

"Sometimes," the little girl said starting to go back into her shell.

"I'm sure she tries really hard," Micky encouraged. "But sometimes she just can't help, right?"

"Sometimes," the girl repeated.

"Well, she helped you get here, didn't she?"

"They don't want to help me. They want to take me back home."

"Are you getting hurt back home? Is that why you don't want to tell them who you are? Because someone at home is hurting you?" The little girl hesitated before giving a very slight nod. "Well, I'm sure if you told the police that someone at home is hurting you, they wouldn't take you back there."

"They wouldn't believe me," she said sounding tearful. "I've told them before, but they just took me back home. I didn't want to come here, but the mean man didn't listen to me."

"What mean man?"

"The mean man at the store. I told him that I was only taking the bread from his store cause I was hungry. I tried to give him a quarter for it, but he didn't want it."

"He called the police on you?"

"Yes. He said I was stealing. I didn't want to hurt him. I just wanted to eat something."

"Do your parents not feed you?"

"Sometimes they do. I have to earn it." Micky's heart broke for the little girl.

"I think you should try telling the police that," Micky said trying not to start crying.

"I told you they don't believe me."

"How did you get this bruise, sweetie?" Micky asked brushing his hand gently across her cheek. She jerked back a little, seemingly out of habit and Micky found it much harder to not cry.

"I didn't do my chores right," she said. "Mommy had to discipline me."

"Hitting you like that is not a punishment. What about the one on your arm?"

"I tried to run away. Daddy had to make sure I didn't leave. He said there were a lot of mean people who want to hurt me."

"He is right about that, but I think your parents are among those mean people. If you tell these police officers what happened and show them your bruises, they'll help you."

"That officer was really mean."

"Yeah, he wasn't the nicest man in the world."

"I think everyone in the world is mean."

"Why do you say that?"

"Mommy and Daddy are mean. The man at the store is mean. And the police are mean."

"What about your teacher. She gave you this doll, didn't she?"

"Yeah. She's not really mean."

"There you go. Not everyone in this world is mean. There are some people in this world who care about you." The little girl smiled at him. She looked really pretty when she smiled. Her eyes lit up for the first time during their whole conversation. Then she did something that Micky hadn't expected; she jumped out of her chair and wrapped her arms around him.

"I think you're really nice, too," she said in his ear. Micky smiled and hugged the little girl back.

"Thank you," Micky said as she let go and climbed back into her chair. "So you want to tell me your name now?"

"I'm Marcy," the little girl said with a smile.

"Nice to meet you, Marcy," Micky said. "Can you talk to the police now?"

"I don't know," she said. "Last time I said something to them, Mommy and Daddy punished me. They said I'm not supposed to talk to people about them. I'm scared."

"I know it's scary, but-" Micky was about to say more, but he was interrupted by the officers returning.

"Excuse me, sir," Officer Blaine said, "you are not allowed to speak to this girl."

"I only came to talk to her because you were making her upset," Micky said standing up to speak to the officers now.

"The girl is upset because she's in a lot of trouble," the other officer said.

"Are you two really that blind?" Micky asked angrily. "Do you not see the bruises she has? Why would a little girl be stealing bread unless she was hungry?"

"You'd be surprised what little kids do," the officer said. "And since she won't even tell us her name, there's not much we can do."

"So what's gonna happen to her?" Micky asked.

"Since we can't get her to talk, my supervisor has already placed a call to have her put into the care of social services for the night while we try and find her parents," Officer Blaine said.

"So you're just going to dump her in a foster home?" Micky asked.

"Since she won't tell us her name, we really don't have much of a choice, buddy," the other officer said.

"She told me she's being abused and underfed," Micky said glaring at the detectives. "It's clear as day for anyone to see just by looking at her. And she's not talking to either of you because she's terrified of her own parents and if you can't see that, then you're a couple of idiots."

"Excuse me?" Officer Blaine said puffing himself up. Micky almost countered, but suddenly Davy ran in between the officers and Micky in an effort to diffuse the situation.

"My friend here is really sorry," Davy said.

"No I'm not," Micky snapped.

"Look, he's been through an awful lot the past couple of days and he's just really tense," Davy continued. "We'll leave you alone now."

"Davy," Micky tried arguing, but Davy clamped his hand over Micky's mouth. Davy began tugging on Micky's sleeve to pull him away, but Micky couldn't just leave this little girl behind. He wasn't sure why he felt so draw to her; why he felt he had to help her so much, but he did. He looked back at her and saw sadness fill her eyes once more. With a jerk, Micky pulled away from Davy's grip. He knew there wasn't much he could do to help this girl, but he wasn't about to just leave her without at least saying good bye and try one more time to get her to talk to the police. With a glare at the cops, Micky knelt down in front of the little girl again.

"Hey, sweetie," he said. "I have to go now, but I want you to remember something, ok?" The little girl nodded. "No matter how bad it may seem, there are people in this world who do care about you and don't want to hurt you. Now, these cops seem mean, but it's their job to help you, so please tell them what's going on. I promise it will be ok." The little girl looked from Micky to the cops again who looked very annoyed. Micky sighed. As long as those cops carried an attitude like that, this girl wasn't going to open up to them. She was just as afraid of them as she was her parents.

"You need to leave now, sir," Officer Blaine said. "Before we arrest you."

"For what!?" Micky asked.

"Don't worry," Davy said grabbing his sleeve again. "We're leaving." Micky waited until they were outside the station before turning on Davy.

"Why did you pull me out of there?" he asked.

"If I hadn't, we'd be visiting you in jail!" Davy retorted. "I feel bad for that little girl, too, but there's nothing we can do for her." Micky was about to say something, but an idea popped in his head. He watched a car pull up with a sticker for Malibu Springs Foster Home on it. It had an address and a phone number written on it. A woman got out of the car and made her way into the police station. Micky quickly grabbed a pen and paper from their car and jotted down the address. Micky would check back on the little girl later at the foster home to make sure she was ok. He would keep his promise to her no matter what it took.


	6. Bait

Author's Note: Ok, it's going to start getting darker from here on out. I hope you like it!

Chapter 6: Bait

Mike and Peter sat at the table trying to come up with plans to get Barty off Patty's tail, but they first needed to find out how much Peter's parents knew, and that was the task proving the most difficult. They could easily just lure Barty into a trap with the police around to catch him so he was arrested and carted off to jail, but that may not have stopped other people from coming after Patty. If her parents knew where she was, there was every chance in the world they'd send someone else after her.

"The only thing we can really do is try and get him to talk somehow," Peter said. "Just ask him how much my parents know."

"I doubt he's going to be so forthcoming, Peter," Mike said. He knew it was their only option, but they had to think of a way to get him to talk.

"Well, he is an idiot," Patty offered. She stood in the kitchen pouring herself another glass of ginger ale that Mike and Davy had gotten at the store for her stomach.

"Yeah, but Mike's right," Peter said with a sigh. "He's not going to just volunteer information without incentive. He knows if he does, Dad'll kill him."

"So we entice him to talk," Patty said.

"How?" Mike asked even though he thought he knew where she was going; he just wanted to keep Peter as far away from that kind of action as possible.

"Patty, I think I know where you're going," Peter started. "But I really don't think it's right."

"Ok, so we stand back and do nothing," she said. "Or I just go home and grovel and beg for forgiveness."

"You know I don't want that either," Peter said.

"Well, what other choice do we really have right now, Peter?" she asked. She suddenly grabbed her stomach, slammed her glass on the counter and ran for the bathroom. Mike cringed and felt bad that there wasn't more they could do to help her feel better. Peter got up from the table and darted after her. Mike sighed and starting cleaning up a little. Peter and Patty were in the bathroom only for a few minutes when they came back out. Mike handed her a fresh glass of the ginger ale which she gladly accepted.

"I wish there was something more we could do to help with that," Mike said.

"It's fine," Patty said. "It's perfectly normal. Something every woman has to deal with, right?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't really make it any better," Peter said. Mike was about to say something, but he heard Davy and Micky pull up to the house. When they walked in, Davy looked as upset as he had been when they left, but now Micky was also upset.

"Hey, how'd it go?" Peter asked. Davy glared at Micky before sitting down on the couch.

"Fine, mostly," Davy said. Mike could sense there was tension between them and was almost afraid to ask what had happened.

"What's going on with you two?" Mike asked anyway standing up and steeling himself to play referee between his two friends.

"Oh, nothing," Davy said his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Micky just almost got himself arrested."

"You what!?" Mike exclaimed turning on Micky.

"I did not!" Micky argued. "I did nothing they can charge me with!"

"How about harassing a police officer?" Davy asked

"Micky?" Peter asked clearly as stunned as Mike was. It was very unlike Micky to do anything illegal. Unless, of course, his friends were in danger and he absolutely had to.

"I did not harass him!" Micky defended.

"You called him an idiot!" Davy said. "And don't try and tell me that you weren't about to punch him, cause I could tell you were."

"What in the world…Micky, what did you do!?" Mike asked.

"I didn't do anything," Micky said.

"Cause I stopped you," Davy argued.

"I was not about to punch him," Micky said but Mike could tell he was lying.

"Ok, how about you two start from the beginning," Patty said coming between all four of them and trying to diffuse the situation.

"There was this little girl in the police station," Micky started. "I could tell she was scared and the idiot cops were getting angry with her rather than trying to help her because she wouldn't even so much as tell them her name."

"What was she doing there?" Peter asked. "Was she lost?"

"She was stealing bread so she could eat," Micky said angrily. "She had a bruise on her face and her arm. It was clear to see that she was being hurt and neglected and those cops just kept pestering her to tell them who she was and where she lived. She didn't want to tell them because she's too afraid to go home."

"You don't know it was her parents who were hurting her," Davy said.

"Yes, I do, because she told me," Micky said.

"Well, how would the cops know that?" Davy asked. "Don't go calling them idiots because they don't have all the facts, Micky."

"All you had to do was take one look at her!" Micky exclaimed.

"Well, Davy has a point," Mike said. "She could have gotten beat up at school or she could have been hurt by someone else entirely."

"Then why was she stealing bread?" Micky said scathingly.

"I don't know, but you can't expect everyone to jump to the same conclusion you did," Mike said. "Did you actually call the cops idiots?"

"Yes, cause they were," Micky said. "They're just going to dump her in a foster home."

"Well, what are they supposed to do if she won't tell them her name?" Patty asked.

"She would have told them, but she was afraid of them," Micky said. "They were getting angry with her instead of trying to compassionately get her to open up to them."

"Well, that's all very sad, but there's nothing you can do about it now," Mike said. "We have other things to worry about."

"Oh, he wrote down the address of the foster home they're taking her to," Davy snapped. "He plans on going back to visit her."

"I promised her everything would be ok," Micky defended.

"Why?" Mike asked. "You don't know that."

"I don't know, ok?" Micky said sounding very exasperated. "Is this gang up on Micky day or something?"

"No one is ganging up on you, Micky," Peter said. "We just really can't handle too much right now, and I'm sorry, but even though I'm sure we all feel really bad for that girl, keeping my sister safe is too important not to push on a back burner."

"I'm not trying to do that, Peter," Micky said. "I just…I don't know. I felt like I had to do something. I felt like I owe her."

"You don't know her," Davy said.

"I'm aware of that," Micky said. "I can't explain it. But I can't break my promise to her. I have to make sure she's ok. If I do, that'll be one more person in the world who let her down, and I can't live with that on my conscience."

"Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you made that promise to her," Davy said.

"Davy, stop," Mike said when he saw a flash of anger cross Micky's face. "I know you're upset over this thing with your mother, but don't take it out on Micky. He was trying to help a little girl. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing. I may not have gone as far with it as he did, but I still would have wanted to help her, and I know you would have, too. But you're angry and bitter, so take a deep breath and calm yourself down before you say something you can't take back. I'll make a deal with you, Micky, ok? I'll go with you tomorrow to check on that girl, but for now we have to work on saving Patty. Deal?" Davy looked down at his feet shamefully accepting that Mike was right. Micky looked from Peter to Patty and finally back at Mike before sighing and sinking into a chair in the living room.

"Deal," he said.

"Ok, so Peter, Patty and I were just discussing how to figure out what Peter's parents know and what they don't," Mike said sitting back down. "And what the best way to get Barty arrested would be."

"We need to get him to talk somehow," Micky agreed. "It's not like we can just call them up and ask them."

"Right," Mike said. "But I think there may only be one way to get Barty to spill the beans on what he knows. I know you don't like it, Peter, but I agree with your sister."

"Are you guys talking about coercing it out of him?" Davy asked.

"Well, he's not just gonna up and volunteer the information," Micky said.

"Well, no, but it's wrong to hurt someone," Davy said.

"Yeah, it's also wrong to shoot at someone," Mike said. "Especially a pregnant woman."

"If you guys don't want to do it, I can," Patty said.

"No," Peter said. "I don't want any violence around my niece or nephew."

"Peter, my baby isn't even born yet," Patty said.

"Well, they can hear things inside there," Peter said. "Or so I've heard."

"It's ok, Patty," Mike said before she could argue. "First things first; we have to figure out a way to lure him into a trap where we can capture him."

"Easy," Patty said. "We use me as bait."

"I don't think so," Mike said.

"You must be joking!" Davy exclaimed at the same time.

"No, Patty," Peter also said at the same time.

"Yeah, that's not happening," Micky added also at the same time.

"Do you guys have any other ideas?" Patty said looking a little annoyed.

"We can use bait, but it sure as heck isn't going to be you," Mike said.

"Then who?" she asked.

"One of us dresses up as you," Micky said picking up on Mike's plan.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Yeah," Mike said. "Let's see, Davy's too short."

"Well, Peter and Patty are twins," Davy said.

"I've dressed up like her before," Peter agreed.

"Yeah, when you were 5!" Patty argued.

"Do we still have that blond wig?" Mike asked ignoring Patty.

"I'll go get it," Micky said as he dashed up the stairs.

"You have a blonde wig?" Patty asked skeptically.

"Yeah, it's helped us get out of a few binds," Mike said laughing. "Micky wore it once when he pretended to be a chaperone."

"You dress up as women in your spare time?" Patty said laughing.

"Not in our spare time," Peter said. "It's not like it's a hobby, but we have to sometimes."

"Peter wore it once pretending to be Davy's mom in a toy factory so we could help this guy save his job," Mike laughed.

"And I really thought that would be the last time I had to dress as a woman," Peter mumbled.

"Found it!" Micky said bounding down the stairs.

"Don't you think it would be easier just to have me do it?" Patty asked.

"No," all four of them replied in unison again.

"Patty, we can't risk anything happening to you," Peter said. "I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you."

"Oh, but I can?" Patty asked. Peter opened his mouth to say something, but shut it almost immediately.

"That's not what he meant," Mike said. "None of us are ok with using you as bait. It's not saying we don't think you can't take care of yourself either. It's just…you're pregnant. You have to protect your baby as much as yourself." Mike didn't feel comfortable using her baby as a way of making her feel guilty enough to make her back down, but it seemed to work; she didn't say anything else in protest.

"Ok, Peter, put the wig on and get dressed in some girl's clothes," Micky said handing Peter the wig. "I want to see how believable it looks." Peter nodded and dug some girl's clothes out of their closet. After a few minutes in the bathroom, he came out wearing a floral print skirt, a blouse and the blonde wig. Patty bit back a laugh.

"Looks believable," Davy said.

"It's missing something," Mike said. He looked Peter from top to bottom, but couldn't place it.

"Yeah, he's missing a stomach," Micky said. "He's too skinny."

"Really?" Peter asked. "Are you really going to make me wear something to make me look pregnant?"

"You want this to work?" Micky asked.

"And what were you thinking of using, Micky?" Mike asked skeptically.

"Well, she's not that-" Micky started, but Mike quickly clamped his hand over Micky's mouth.

"Patty is beautiful," Mike said staring at Micky and trying to convey it was never a good idea to imply that a pregnant woman was either "fat" or "round" or "big" or anything like that.

"Of course she is," Micky said quickly getting the hint. "Just a few towels wrapped around his stomach out to do the trick." Micky dashed into the bathroom and came back a few moments later with some towels. Mike grabbed some duct tape and Davy lifted up the blouse Peter was wearing so that Micky could wrap the towels around his stomach and Mike could tape them in place.

"I can't believe you guys are making me do this," Peter mumbled.

"Would you rather your sister do it?" Micky asked quietly so Patty wouldn't start protesting again.

"Of course not," Peter said. After a few minutes of making sure everything was smooth, Peter tucked the blouse back into the skirt and this time he looked good. Patty wasn't showing all that much yet, so they didn't need Peter to be all that big yet either, so the towels worked well.

"Perfect!" Mike said. "Ok, so now we just have to figure out where he is, then Peter gets out of the car and leads him into our little trap."

"Then what?" Davy asked.

"Well, then…" Mike started, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

"We'll deal with that when we get there," Micky said putting a hand on Mike's shoulder. None of them were really looking forward to the prospect that they might have to hurt another person, but Mike just had to keep reminding himself that Barty deserved it. Anyone who hurts a pregnant woman deserved a good smack in the face. But he still really hoped they could find another way around it.

* * *

They had spent the better half of the day driving around with Peter and Patty crouched down in the back of the car driving around hoping to get a good glimpse of Barty, but none of them saw him. So Mike decided to try again tomorrow, and turned the car around to head back home. Just in case, Peter and Patty stayed hidden in the back seat. Davy was honestly glad to be heading home. He wanted this all to be over and for Patty to be safe, but he was extremely tired. He hadn't slept well the night before because Peter had woken them from having his nightmare, and Davy hadn't been able to sleep after he'd had his own nightmare the night before that on their couch.

So when they finally reached the pad without incident, Peter rushed into the bathroom to take off his getup and Davy told Mike and Micky he was going to go to sleep early that night. Mike, Micky and Patty waved him goodnight and sat around the kitchen to talk some more. Davy made his way into his bed carefully stepping over the sleeping bags that belonged to Micky and Mike and crawled under the covers. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

_Davy walked down the street and kicked at a rock. He really didn't want to be going home, but he had no choice. His favorite teacher had given him a bologna sandwich earlier that day, and as his stomach groaned, he pulled it out. He'd eaten half of it earlier, but was saving the other half for the walk home. Just like he always did. He never knew if there would be food in the cabinets when he got home. By the time he reached the run-down apartment he called home, he'd finished the sandwich and threw the baggie away. He paused for a moment on the other side of the door before he opened it. He had to listen for sounds pertaining to actions he didn't want to see. His mother would stoop to whatever low she could think of to get money for drugs and alcohol, and he really didn't want to see any of it. Hearing only silence on the other side of the door he carefully pushed it open. The sight that met him was a typical one. Both his parents were passed out on the floor, blood dripping from their noses. Davy just rolled his eyes and walked over to the phone. He dialed a number he knew well, and a very pleasant voice greeted him. _

"_Hello?" said the man on the other end of the line. _

"_Hello Dr. Cragen," Davy said. _

"_David, is that you?"_

"_Yes. I just got home. They did it again." _

"_Alright, I'm on my way," Dr. Cragen said with a sigh. Davy stepped over the bodies of his parents on the floor and walked to the kitchen table. He set his backpack on the table and started to do some homework. He'd gone through three math problems when he heard the knock on the door. When he opened it, an older man with a very warm smile and sparkling eyes was standing on the other side. _

"_Sorry, Dr. Cragen," Davy said stepping aside to let him in. _

"_Don't apologize, David," Dr. Cragen said. "Don't ever apologize for your parents. It's my job to make sure they don't kill themselves. You have nothing to do with it."_

"_I know, but I wish I didn't have to call you so often," Davy answered closing the door behind him. _

"_So do I, David, so do I." Dr. Cragen walked over to Davy's parents and knelt down next to them. He checked for a pulse in their wrists and then he checked their eyes. "They should be fine. It appears they both drank too much again." _

"_Thanks," Davy said. _

"_I really wish that you didn't have to deal with this."_

"_My grandpa says he's trying to take me away. But the social worker said that it might take a while. She said she hasn't seen anything that would give her cause to let Grandpa take me."_

"_Well, she needs to be more thorough. I know I'm a doctor and I can't release medical information without a warrant, but I am tired of reporting suspicions of neglect and having nothing happen. I'm damn near tempted to break my oath and just hand over their patient records without a court order."_

"_Don't do that, Dr. Cragen. You'll lose your job!"_

"_I know. Want me to stay for a while until they wake up?"_

"_That's ok," Davy answered. He really would have liked the company, but he knew it would make his parents mad. _

"_Are you working on homework?" Dr. Cragen asked seeing the school books on the table. _

"_Yes. Math."_

"_I hope you're doing well in school?"_

"_I guess. I got a C on my last test." _

"_If you need any help, feel free to ask me. You're a very smart young man, Mr. Jones, and you could do well if you put your mind to it. But I can imagine how hard it must be when you have to deal with this."_

"_Thank you, Dr. Cragen." Davy smiled. He really liked Dr. Cragen. He seemed to care about him and had even given Davy a new sweater for Christmas. Granted his mother had sold it to a pawn shop, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Dr. Cragen that little bit. With a final smile, Dr. Cragen left Davy alone with his parents. As soon as Davy had made his way back to the kitchen table, his mother moaned and sat up. She looked at Davy with confusion in her eyes. _

"_Who are you?" she asked. Davy sighed a little. _

"_I'm your son David," he answered very slowly and deliberately. _

"_Son?" she echoed. "I don't have a son!" She leapt up off the floor and charged at Davy. "My son died before he was born!"_

"_No, Mom, that was my brother!" Davy cried leaping out of the chair and crawling under the table to avoid her. _

"_You killed him, didn't you!" she exclaimed ignoring Davy completely. Davy wished that he had asked Dr. Cragen to stay, but it was too late now. Davy dashed out of the kitchen and in her current state, it took a while for her to realize he'd escaped from the kitchen. _

"_Mom, please stop!" Davy cried as she picked up a knife and charged him again. Davy dodged her again, used to this kind of behavior from her. _

"_You're not my son! Tell me what you did to my son!" she shrieked. Davy ran through the living room but slipped on the puddle of blood coming from his dad's nose. He crashed on the floor and his mom was on top of him in a second. He tensed up and tried to wriggle away, but couldn't. Luckily she took that moment to remember who he was for a split second and dropped the knife. "Oh, David, I'm so sorry," she cried. _

"_Get off," Davy said. She sat up and at that moment his dad started coming to as well. Davy didn't wait for another romp around the apartment to avoid his dad, so he just walked toward the front door and left. When he slammed the door behind him, he heard the familiar sounds of his father yelling at his mother. _

Davy bolted upright in his bed and felt very cold. He looked around and saw he'd kicked the covers on the floor and onto Mike and Micky's sleeping bags. Peter was lying asleep in his bed across the way, but Mike and Micky had woken up and were looking at him with pity. Davy didn't want anyone to pity him, so he just got out of bed and left.


	7. A Broken System

Author's Note: Ponderoso: it actually can be expensive to get a marriage license. I have a friend who has two kids with her live-in boyfriend and they have been together 5 years+ and as much as she needs to get on his insurance etc, they just can't afford to get married. She said it'll cost them a couple hundred bucks. Plus I've been around addicts (who lived a very happy childhood mind you) and trust me when I say they really don't care about stuff like that. The only thing on the forefront of their minds is where they are going to get their next fix. Also, sometimes people are just addicts. Addidctive behavior can be hereditary and once you try it once, you're hooked. It's why I abstain from narcotic pain killers as much as I can, but that's hard to do sometimes. So no, neither of them were married when they met, they just didn't care. Hope that clears a few things up.

Chapter 7: A Broken System

Mike and Micky exchanged a look with each other. Mike was worried about his friend, but wasn't sure if he should follow him or not. Davy liked being alone when he was in somber moods, and Mike didn't want to intrude on that, but at the same time, he really wanted to talk to Davy and make sure he was ok. This time it was a little more serious than any other time Davy had been depressed. Micky looked just as torn as Mike felt. Reaching a decision, Mike got up off the floor and threw on a robe to follow Davy. He reached Davy just as Davy was throwing a stick at the ocean angrily as if he knew it would hurt it.

"You ok, Davy?" Mike asked coming up behind him.

"I don't want your pity," Davy snapped.

"Who says I'm taking pity on you?" Mike asked, even though he kind of was.

"I can see it in your eyes," Davy answered. "Micky's too."

"Well, we can't help it," Mike said moving to stand next to his friend. "We care about you a lot and none of us wants to see you hurting. We do feel bad for what happened to you as a kid. A lot of really bad things happen to good people sometimes. But you have to remember it's what makes you who you are."

"I know," Davy said.

"You want to talk about it?" Mike asked. "Peter said he felt better after he talked to us."

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me," Davy said.

"I already do, Davy," Mike said. "But I also know that whatever happened made you stronger, so in a way, I don't feel sorry for you."

"That doesn't make any sense," Davy said.

"I know, I'm tired. I can't be as eloquent as I normally am."

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I couldn't sleep. I have my own nightmares sometimes."

"About what?"

"My own past isn't exactly pretty either."

"You want to talk about it?" Davy asked and instantly Mike regretted his own words. He sighed very heavily. He couldn't talk about his past. Not just because it was too painful, but also because he didn't want to weigh Davy down any more than he already was.

"Not really," Mike said. "Maybe when the time comes I will. But for now it needs to just stay in the past."

"I'm sorry, Mike," Davy answered. They sat there for a while before Mike noticed Davy was shivering a little. Mike took off his robe and wrapped it around Davy's shoulders.

"Come on, Davy," Mike said. "Let's go inside before we both freeze." Mike and Davy walked back to the house in silence. When they entered, Mike was a little surprised to find Peter and Micky in the kitchen with four hot cups of coffee on the table.

"Thought you could use some," Micky said waving at the two placed on other ends of the table.

"Thanks," Mike said.

"Did I wake you up, Peter?" Davy asked.

"No," Peter answered. "Couldn't sleep."

"I don't think any of us can," Micky said.

"It's not like having bad dreams is new to any of us," Mike said.

"Yeah, but it doesn't usually happen back to back like this," Peter said.

"Or all at the same time," Davy added.

"I think it's all the drama going on," Micky said. "Making us all think about things." The room was filled with silence for a few minutes.

"Better not to dwell on things," Mike said finally breaking the silence and standing up. "I think we should just try and forget about things and move on."

"What about Patty?" Peter asked.

"Well of course we're still going to help Patty," Mike answered. "But there's nothing more to worry about with Davy's mom-"

"Brittainy," Davy interrupted. "Stop calling her my mom."

"Ok Brittainy," Mike continued. "There's nothing more to worry about for a while with her, so let's just focus on helping Patty and get our lives back to normal."

"I'm sorry, guys," Peter said. "I didn't mean to cause problems."

"Peter, don't apologize," Mike said. "This isn't your fault, ok? Don't blame yourself for things that are out of your control. We all agreed to help Patty, and besides that, Micky and I were the first ones to jump in and help her."

"Mike?" Micky said looking at him with a strange sort of pained look. "What about the little girl at the police station?"

"Micky, I really don't think it's a good idea to add more chaos right now," Davy said. "I am really, really sorry for that little girl, but she's with the police. They have to figure things out eventually, right?"

"Not necessarily," Micky said. "I'll just go alone. I don't want to tack more weight on you guys. But I have to see this through. I don't know why, but I do."

"I'm going with you," Mike said as Micky got up to go get dressed. Micky looked back at him quizzically. "I made you a deal yesterday. And maybe I can prevent you from diving further into this than you already are."

"Thanks," Micky said. "I think."

"I just want to make sure you don't get into any more trouble," Mike said following Micky to the room to get dressed for the day. They had finished getting ready as soon as the sun was starting to come up.

"Do you want to just go now?" Micky asked.

"Now's as good a time as any, I guess," Mike answered. "You guys gonna be ok?"

"Don't see why not," Peter said. "Be careful, ok?"

"We will," Mike said. "I'll make sure of it. When we get back, I want to go look for Barty again, ok?"

"Got it," Peter said. Mike and Micky walked out and climbed into the car.

"Got the address?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, I'll give you directions," Micky answered.

"Make sure they're accurate this time," Mike said. "I don't want to end up in another ghost town."

"Well, we aren't leaving the city, so we should be fine," Micky said with a laugh. They drove for about half an hour before they reached the group/foster home on the outskirts of town. Mike parked the car and held up a hand stopping Micky from getting out.

"First things first, what is your plan when you go in there?" Mike asked. "I doubt they are just going to let you see her."

"Probably not," Micky said. "But I want to at least ask."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Sneak in of course." Micky jumped out of the car before Mike could stop him again. With a sigh, Mike followed him inside. The lobby was completely empty, so Micky decided to poke around leaving Mike to follow him anxiously. He really wasn't sure what would happen if they were to get caught, and he didn't want to find out either. There were three rooms total with about a dozen bunk beds to each of them. Most looked like they'd been slept in the night before, but they were all empty now. Going through a fourth door, they realized all the kids were eating breakfast.

"That's a lot of kids," Mike said when they'd ducked out again.

"A lot of kids get taken from their homes or abandoned," Micky said matter-of-factly. Mike didn't argue this fact; it was just surreal to actually see it.

"Any sign of that little girl?" Mike said.

"No, she wasn't in the dining hall," Micky answered. "Leaves the offices."

"You can't go snooping around there," Mike scolded, but Micky was already walking down the long hallway. He paused at each door to lean his ear in and listen. When he got about halfway down, he stopped and motioned to Mike that he'd found her. Mike moved in to listen out of curiosity as well. He heard several voices from inside the room.

"Thank you for coming inside," said a female voice. "I am terribly sorry, but there are only a few forms to sign."

"This better not take long," said a man's voice. Micky's brow furrowed a little at the sound of it. "I am already going to be late for work as it is."

"I understand, and I'm very sorry," the woman said. "I also just have a few questions while you sign the paperwork. I've looked at your daughter's file and it seems that we've been to your home several times in the past few years."

"Yes, and no one has ever found anything wrong with our home," said another woman's voice.

"Yes, I see just a few notes in here," replied the first woman.

"What notes?" the man asked. "We've never done anything to our daughter. We've tried to discipline her, but it's next to impossible."

"The only notes here are the numerous injuries she has had," the first woman, who Mike now assumed was the social worker, answered.

"What injuries?" the man Mike assumed was the girl's father.

"She falls a lot," the second woman Mike assumed was the mother offered. "The bruise on her face right now is from walking into a door. Our daughter is quite the klutzy child. Aren't you sweetie?" There was silence for a moment before the social worker spoke again.

"Yes, well, she's had a few broken bones," she said.

"Those are from falling off a swing at the playground and off her bike," the dad answered. "We've already told you this before! Can we please just take her home now?"

"Who breaks a bone falling off a bike?" Mike asked but Micky shushed him.

"Yes, that is also noted in here, but I'm afraid that I still have a few questions before I can let you take her home," answered the social worker.

"Can't we do this later?" the mother asked. "My husband has to get to work. He's already late."

"I am very sorry, but I have to ensure your daughter is returned to a safe environment," the social worker answered her annoyance level starting to sound more and more evident. "Your daughter was caught stealing bread. That to me signifies a problem."

"The problem isn't with us," the father boomed and all the color drained from Micky's face. "The problem is with my child who doesn't know how to behave! She's as bad as her brother!"

"I don't see a brother listed here," the social worker said.

"That's because he doesn't live with us anymore," the mother said. "He's an adult now."

"Is there a way I can get in contact with him?" the social worker asked.

"No," the father sneered. "We haven't seen him in years. Good riddance, if you ask me. Probably a drunk, drugged out loser by now if he's even still alive."

"Look, Miss Daniels," the mother said, "I don't know why she was stealing, but I can assure you we feed her very well. I just spent a ton of money on food. I get food stamps. You can look it up and check my account. I go grocery shopping every weekend. My daughter does not go hungry; she just seems to enjoy making trouble for us. Now, unless you have a reason right now to take my daughter from me, we are leaving." They heard the scraping of chairs as people got up and Mike and Micky scrambled down the hallway so they wouldn't be seen. Mike looked at Micky who looked like he was going to faint.

"Micky, what's-" Mike started but again was shushed by Micky. Micky grabbed his arm and pulled him out to the parking lot and began looking around. After a moment he ran toward their car and whirled on Mike when they reached it.

"Give me the keys, Mike," Micky said. Mike was very shocked by the sound of his voice; it was very rough and angry.

"Micky what is going on?" Mike said.

"Just give me the keys," Micky repeated.

"I'm not giving you the keys until you tell me what's going on!"

"We don't have time for this," Micky answered.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked.

"They're going to let Marcy go home with them," Micky said. "I can't let that happen."

"Micky, you don't exactly have much of a choice here," Mike said.

"Oh yes, I do," Micky answered.

"No, you don't! You can't kidnap her!"

"Watch me!" Micky said. "Now either give me the keys or you drive!"

"You are NOT going to kidnap that little girl, Micky."

"If you don't give me the keys, I'll hotwire the car!"

"Micky, will you please calm down and tell me what's going on!?" Mike exclaimed, but at that moment, the family emerged from the building and Micky quickly ducked in the car.

"Mike, you said it yourself, who breaks a bone falling off a bike?" Micky pled from the passenger seat. "They're beating that little girl and you want to just sit back and let it happen?"

"I didn't say that!" Mike hissed and ducked behind the car so he wouldn't be heard or seen by the family and social worker.

"Then get in the car and follow them!" Micky exclaimed. Mike watched as the social work continued to talk to the parents.

"I'll be by later to check on the home," she was saying to them. "Judging from past reports and the inspection my colleagues performed this morning, I don't think there will be much to find, but if I do, I will remove your daughter."

"Oh yeah," Micky grumbled, "give them time to clean up the evidence. That's real smart! Stupid social worker!" The social worker walked back inside the building and Mike now got a clear view of the girl. She looked absolutely terrified. She clutched a doll to her chest tightly as if it were a lifeline and just stood there while her parents walked to their car. The father realized she wasn't following him and he turned around and grabbed her by the back of the neck and pushed her forward violently.

"Get in the car, you little brat!" he barked. "I can't believe you're making me late for work again." The little girl started crying a little and the mother walked over to her now.

"Why are you crying?" she said, but in anything other than a worried voice. The mother ripped the doll out of the girl's hands and threw it on the ground. It landed in a pile of dirt near Mike and the girl looked like her world had just been crushed. "I've told you to get rid of that stupid thing. And if you pull another stunt like this and I'll lock you in the basement so you can't run away anymore."

"Get in the car," the father barked as the girl tried to pick up her doll. She didn't immediately listen to him, so the dad kicked her. Mike felt like walking over to them and punching the father himself, but before he could, the family had climbed in the car. He watched with his stomach in knots as they began to drive away. Mike ran over quickly and picked up the doll before getting in the car and following them.

"Satisfied now?" Micky said as they pulled from the parking lot. His voice sounded forced as though he were trying not to cry.

"What's going on, Micky?" Mike asked.

"I don't know," Micky said.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know! I don't understand it. I…" Micky trailed off.

"Micky, we can't just kidnap that little girl. We have to go to the cops and tell them what we saw. They'll take her away."

"Don't you think people have already done that!?" Micky exclaimed angrily. "Don't you think dozens of people have reported bruises, broken bones, and a broken, damaged little girl? She's too scared to say anything and her parents always have an excuse ready! She fell down the stairs, she got in a fight at the playground, she fell of her bike, she walked into a door! Or my favorite, she threw a temper tantrum and did it to herself! There's always an excuse, but there's never proof! The system doesn't work! The system is broken and children like her suffer because of it!"

"Well, we can't just take her, Micky! What are we going to do, hide her at the house for the next ten years?"

"If I have to," Micky said. Images flooded Mike's mind of what would happen if Mike allowed Micky to go through with this. He hated having to let this girl go through this, but he had to put his friend first. He pulled off the road and stopped the car.

"Mike!" Micky exclaimed. "What are you doing!?"

"Trust me, Micky, that will NOT end well. They will find you and they will kill you."

"You don't know that!"

"I _do_ know that, Micky!" Mike yelled getting angry. "You cannot hide forever, Micky. They will find you! I promise you that."

"He never found me before! Besides that, I don't care if he kills me. I can't let him hurt her anymore!"

"What are you talking about? I thought you didn't know that girl."

"She's…she's my sister, Mike. She's my baby sister. I didn't even know I had a sister."

"How is that possible? She's gotta be 8 or so and you're almost 22. You would have been 14 when she was born."

"I wasn't there, ok? I ran away when I was 13. I ran away just like she did, but I was never caught."

"You have lived on the streets since you were 13?"

"Yes," Micky answered. "It's not really that bad once you get used to it. It's better than being beaten every day. The scar on my hand is from him. I was 9 and broke a plate. He got pissed and shoved me to the ground and I landed on the shards. Then he kicked me. A lot. I had black eyes almost weekly and all my teachers reported it to social services, but no one ever did anything. There was always food in the house, but I wasn't the one eating it. They always told me if I said anything to the social workers or the cops, they'd beat me to within an inch of my life."

"Micky, I'm sorry," Mike said.

"I finally had enough and left. I left and I didn't look back. And because of that, she's going through the same hell I went through."

"You can't blame yourself for that."

"If I had stayed longer, I could have taken her with me."

"Micky, how on earth do you think that a 13 year old boy could have taken care of a baby while living on the streets?"

"I don't know, Mike, but anything is better than what she's going through now."

"At least she's not dead. If she had been raised on the street, she would probably have starved or frozen to death or something."

"Sometimes it's better to be dead," Micky mumbled. Mike's heart broke into dozens of tiny pieces. How could anyone think that way?

"Micky, please don't say that," Mike said softly.

"You don't know what it's like, Mike. You don't know how it feels to be told you're worthless, to be beaten mercilessly, to have to steal just so you can eat, to be in so much pain that you just wish you could close your eyes at night and never wake up."

"You're right, I don't, but you can't beat yourself up over this. There's nothing you could have done to help her."

"But there is now," Micky said finally meeting Mike's eyes. Mike nodded. As much as he hated this plan, he had to do something to help his friend. He'd figure the rest out later. Mike started the car again and began driving.

"We lost them by now, but tell me where they live," Mike said.

"Get on the freeway," Micky instructed.


	8. Kidnapped

Author's Note: Ponderoso: Just to clear up some confusion, the bruise on Marcy's cheek is a regular bruise. It's the one on her arm that is in the shape of a hand from being grabbed on the arm and dragged by her father.

Chapter 8: Kidnapped

Micky's mind was racing as they pulled onto the street of his childhood home. He felt sick to his stomach coming back here. He swore so many years ago that he would never come back here ever again. But he knew he had to now; he had to do right by his sister. A sister he never even knew he had. He knew what would happen to her now that she was home. It had happened to him. Every time social services were called, they blamed him and beat him mercilessly. He hoped that he was in time to prevent another attack against her.

"It's the third house down," Micky told Mike. Mike nodded and pulled in front of the house right next to it.

"What are you going to do, Micky?" Mike asked.

"Not exactly sure," Micky answered. "All I know is that I have to go back in there. They'll be punishing her for running away and getting social services involved."

"So you're just going to wing it?" Mike asked.

"It's worked for me so far," Micky answered starting to climb out of the car.

"No, it hasn't," Mike said pulling on his arm to keep him inside the car. "Micky, if you go in there without a plan, things are going to end badly for you. The only reason you haven't been seriously hurt yet is because you've been lucky. Now take a deep breath. Do you even think the little girl is going to just come with you?"

"She seemed to trust me at the police station," Micky said.

"Ok, then I'll figure out a way to distract your parents and you sneak around back and try and get the girl to come with you out into the car," Mike said. "From there we have to convince her to tell the police what's been happening to her."

"Fine," Micky said. "I don't know how well that will work, but give it a try." The two got out of the car and walked up to the house. Micky walked around back remembering exactly where the latch was to go to the backyard and crept toward the back door ducking below all the windows. He heard Mike knock on the door and peeked in carefully through the back door. The house was just as he remembered it, which worked for their plan because he knew where everything was. He didn't see his parents or Marcy right away, however. Finally, his mother walked out of what used to be Micky's bedroom and toward the front door. That meant that his father was still in the room with Marcy. He hoped Mike would figure out a way to get his father out of the room, but knew that wasn't likely to happen.

"Hello," Mike said when she answered the door, but before he could go any further, Micky's mother cut him off.

"I'm extremely busy right now and I'm not interested in anything you have to sell," she snapped before slamming the door in his face. Micky ducked out of view as his mother returned to the room Micky was sure Marcy was in. Without waiting for Mike, he slid open the patio door and just walked in. He was just going to have to confront them and hope things worked out for the best. He was bigger now and more able to defend himself. Plus he had the element of surprise and he hoped Mike was right behind him. He walked toward the room and heard the familiar sound of a child sobbing. Instantly his heart broke and he ripped the door open. His parents were indeed both in the room and whirled towards the door when they heard the sound of it. They instantly recognized him and his mother froze. His father on the other hand lunged for Micky who instinctively swung his fist. It connected with his father's chin and knocked him backwards a bit. Behind him, he heard Mike enter the house.

"You…" his mother sputtered in shock. Marcy was being held down on the floor by Micky's mother and had a fresh cut on her face to add to the bruise that was already there.

"Get off her," Micky ordered, but his mother just looked at him in shock. His father had recovered by now and stared at him as though figuring out what he should do.

"Get out of my house, boy," he spat.

"I don't think so," Micky spat back. "Let her go."

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" his mother asked still pinning Marcy firmly on the ground.

"Something I should have done a long time ago," Micky answered, both fists now firmly clenched at his side. Without thinking, Micky dashed toward his father and knocked him into the wall with a loud crack as the wall splintered. His mother screamed and Marcy began crying even harder. As his father slumped to the ground in pain, his mother finally let go of Marcy and ran toward Micky with rage etched on her face. Micky grabbed a baseball bat that was sitting on the dresser next to him and swung it at her. She jumped and it smacked her in the arm causing her to cry out in pain, but still have enough sense to back away from Micky.

"Micky, don't do something you'll regret," Mike warned him. Micky looked at Mike and then at Marcy on the floor who now looked incredibly terrified. He softened a little, but still held onto the bat in case one of his parents decided to charge at him again. Mike let out a sigh of relief and walked over to Marcy on the ground. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she jerked away in fear.

"Leave her alone," Micky's mother hissed and started to advance on Mike, but stopped when she noticed Micky grip the bat tightly again. There was no way Micky was going to let her lay a hand on Mike either.

"I should say the same thing to you, lady," Mike snapped before turning back to Marcy. "I'm not going to hurt you. Do you remember Micky?" She looked at Micky and nodded, but still looked scared. "I'm a friend of his. And I brought you something." Mike pulled her doll out from his back pocket and showed it to her. Instantly her eyes lit up and she jumped up to grab the doll from him.

"You saved Jennie!" she exclaimed.

"I did," Mike answered.

"Marcy, why don't you come with Mike and me," Micky said still staring at his mother and waiting for her to attack one of them again. His father still lay slumped on the floor in too much pain to do anything, but conscious. "I promised that everything would be ok, and now it will be."

"You hurt my daddy," she said.

"I did," Micky answered "And I'm sorry I had to do that, but he was hurting you."

"You're sorry?" his mother sputtered.

"Shut up," Micky snapped. "I don't want to hear another word from you, got it?"

"You can't just take her," she argued. "We'll call the cops and have you arrested for kidnapping and assault."

"Go ahead," Micky sneered. "Call them. Tell them all about what you were doing to your little girl. Tell them all about what you did to me."

"They'll never believe you," Micky's father croaked out between hard breaths.

"Doesn't matter if they do or not," Micky answered. "I don't care if I go to jail just so long as I know you'll never lay a hand on my sister again."

"Sister?" Marcy asked.

"That's right, Marcy," Mike said. "Micky is your brother. He ran away before you were born and because of that he didn't know about you until this morning."

"But now I do, Marcy," Micky said. "And I promise I will protect you."

"Is it true?" Marcy asked their mother who just stood there looking like she was weighing her options.

"I can prove it," Micky said. "This used to be my room and I know a little secret about it. Mike, can you open the bottom drawer of that dresser for me?" Mike nodded and did as Micky asked. "There's a false bottom to it. I built it when I was 10. In it you'll find several notebooks. I want those back now. See once I turned 10, I started writing everything that my parents, our parents, ever did to me in those little notebooks and hid them there in case I ever needed them for the police. But after a while, I started to lose faith in the police; just like you, Marcy, so I didn't take them with me when I left. It's a little different now. I'm not afraid of telling the police the truth anymore. So now I can show them those notebooks."

"I got them," Mike said pulling a large stack out.

"I always wondered why that drawer looked funny," Marcy said.

"Well, now you know," Micky said smiling at her. "And now you can come home with me and Mike and we'll talk to the police together."

"Micky!" Mike cried out causing Micky to turn around. He hadn't see his father dig a knife out of his boot and shove it at him, but he felt the pain as the blade cut through his leg. He tried to stay standing, but couldn't. He dropped to the ground in pain unable to support himself, but Mike reacted instantly. He ran over to Micky and grabbed the bat off the floor where Micky had dropped it and swung it at Micky's father making contact with his hand. Micky heard the familiar crunching sound as the bones in his father's hand cracked and he shrieked in pain and dropped the knife. Mike kicked it across the room and away from Micky's dad so he couldn't grab it again with his other hand.

"Mike, get Marcy!" Micky cried as Micky's mother had now grabbed Marcy by the back of the hair and was dragging her out of the room. Mike ran over and swung the bat at Micky's mother, but she ducked to avoid it. This loosened her grip on Marcy however, and Mike grabbed Marcy's arm and yanked her from his mother's grip. Micky's mother whirled on Mike and took him by surprise grabbing his arm and trying to wrench the bat from him. Before she could do anything to try and hurt him, Micky gathered up every ounce of strength he had and ran for her. He tackled her to the ground just as she was trying to throw a kick at Mike. Pain shot through Micky's leg and he rolled off his mother unable to get up again.

"Marcy, there's a bright red car outside," Mike said hurriedly. "Run and wait for Micky and I inside." Marcy didn't think twice this time; she ran for the front door. Mike knelt by Micky and tried to help him up. Micky's mother tried to fight back again, but Mike slammed the bat on the ground next to her putting a solid crack in the flooring. "Try anything else and next time I'll make sure I hit your face," Mike snapped at her causing her to back off. Mike helped Micky to his feet and helped carry him out to the car. They heard Micky's mother shouting the whole way at them.

"You won't get away with this!" she yelled. "I will call the police and you will be charged with kidnapping and assault!"

"Shut up," his father yelled as Mike and Micky reached the front door. "We'll just kill the boy ourselves." Marcy was waiting in the car just like Mike had asked her to and she was still clutching her doll. Mike helped Micky get in the car next to Marcy before throwing the bat in the backseat and climbing behind the driver's seat. Marcy instantly wrapped her arms around Micky in a tight embrace.

"We need to get you to a hospital," Mike said as he pulled away as quickly as he could.

"I'm fine," Micky said. Marcy pulled away from him and looked worriedly at him.

"You're bleeding," she said.

"I am, but I'll be fine," Micky said. "I've been hurt worse by him. Mike, just take us home. You heard what they said."

"What did they say?" Marcy asked.

"Nothing, sweetie," Mike said. "Micky, are you sure about this? Pretty sure the cops will believe us."

"Not without my journals and they'd still charge us with kidnapping Marcy," Micky said.

"You really think they'd do that after what your parents did to her?" Mike asked.

"I don't want to talk to the police," Marcy said sadly.

"Why not?" Mike asked clearly shocked.

"I don't want them to hurt you again," she said.

"Marcy, don't worry about us," Micky said pulling her back into a hug. "We'll be fine. Don't be afraid."

"You were," she said. Micky closed his eyes against the tears forming. She was right. He had been too afraid to talk to the police, how could he expect her not to be.

"I really don't think going home is a good idea, Micky," Mike said. "I think you need to see a doctor."

"I'll be fine," Micky repeated. "Don't worry about it. Just drive home. They'll be less likely to find us there."

"I'm doing this against my better judgment," Mike said as he took the turn that would take them home. Marcy held on to Micky as tightly as she could the whole way. When they pulled up in front of the house, Mike helped Micky out of the car. Marcy still gripped Micky's hand as Mike helped Micky limp to the door.

"Marcy, can you open that for us?" Micky said indicating the door. She nodded and opened the door. As soon as they walked through it, Davy and Peter rushed over to help Mike get Micky to the couch. Patty stood in the kitchen in shock and unsure of what to do.

"What happened!?" Peter exclaimed.

"I thought you were going with him to keep him OUT of trouble!?" Davy added.

"Davy, don't start," Mike snapped.

"What did you do, kidnap her?!" Davy exclaimed upon seeing Marcy. She immediately tensed up in fear again and jumped into Micky's arms.

"Marcy, relax," Micky said trying to calm her down. "These are my other friends, ok? They aren't going to hurt you either. I promise. Davy's just a little surprised and upset."

"A little?!" Davy snapped.

"Davy, stop, you're scaring her," Mike scolded as Marcy shrunk even closer into Micky's arms. "Why don't you go get some bandages and something to wash Micky's leg. And breathe. I'll explain later, first we need to take care of Micky."

"Why is he not at a hospital?" Peter asked as Davy ran off to the bathroom still a little angry and Patty started filling a bowl with water.

"Because I didn't want to go to a hospital," Micky answered. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

"It's not a scratch, Micky," Mike said kneeling down in front of Micky and starting to carefully pull up Micky's pants. The cut was on the back of his thigh, so Mike only had to roll his pant leg up to his knee, but Micky had to admit it hurt. He tried not to let it show because he knew that would only make Marcy even more scared. She let out a little whimper though when she saw the cut and gripped Micky's hand tightly.

"Patty, why don't you take Marcy here into the bathroom and help clean her up a little," Mike said clearly trying to get Marcy away from Micky so she wouldn't have to see this. Patty set the bowl of water on the floor next to the couch and Davy came back with some bandages and washcloths.

"No," Marcy said. "I want to stay with Micky."

"Marcy, I'm fine," Micky said trying to hide the pain from his voice and his face. "Patty's a really nice lady and she'll take good care of you. Don't worry about me."

"I'm scared," Marcy said.

"I know you are, but everything is going to be ok," Micky said. "Please let Patty take care of you. You have a little cut on your cheek and she needs to take care of it just like Mike's gonna take care of me. I promise everything is going to be ok." Marcy seemed a little reluctant to leave Micky's side, but finally jumped down and went with Patty into the bathroom.

"Ok, start explaining," Davy said as soon as the door closed behind the two girls.

"We got to the foster home and found her," Mike said as he started cleaning Micky's leg. "Her parents had already been found and they were there to pick her up. Micky sort of recognized them as his own parents, too."

"Wait, so Marcy is your sister?" Peter asked as he helped Mike by holding Micky's leg.

"Apparently," Micky answered. "I ran away from home when I was 13. She was born after that."

"You lived on the streets since you were 13?" Davy asked sounding a little calmer.

"Yes, it was better than being beaten and abused at home and having no one give a damn about it," Micky said. "No cop or social worker ever did anything to help me and I saw the same thing happening to Marcy. I couldn't just leave her there with them to keep going through the same hell I went through."

"Micky and I followed them back to his old home and we tried just distracting them so Micky could sneak in," Mike said, "But that didn't work. Micky ended up having to confront them."

"That's part of the reason I don't want to go to the hospital," Micky said. "My dad is worse off than I am and if the police find out, we'll get in trouble."

"What did you do?" Peter asked.

"He didn't have a choice," Mike answered for him. "His father charged him and he had to fight back. Marcy was being pinned on the ground and beaten. He punched his dad and shoved him into a wall so hard the wall broke."

"What about your mother?" Davy asked.

"I grabbed a bat and she decided it wasn't worth it to attack me," Micky answered.

"So how did you get stabbed?" Peter asked.

"I guess my dad had a knife in his boot," Micky said. "I wasn't paying attention, but Mike was. He probably would have hurt me worse if Mike hadn't warned me and then broke his hand."

"I didn't break his hand," Mike said.

"Yeah, you did," Micky said. "I heard it. You brought the bat down on his hand probably hard enough to shatter the bones."

"I was just trying to get him to drop the knife," Mike said.

"I know you were," Micky said.

"That looks bad," Peter said motioning to Micky's leg.

"It's not that bad, actually," Mike said. "Doesn't look that deep." Micky winced and jerked his leg as Mike started inspecting it closer and pulling some of the skin aside to see how deep it was. "Sorry, Micky. I told you we should have gone to the hospital."

"I told you, I've had worse," Micky said. "Besides, Marcy's already scared enough as it is, you could seriously get charged as well as me now, not to mention my father yelling that he was going to kill us."

"So are you saying you don't want to go to the cops anymore?" Mike asked looking squarely at Micky now.

"I didn't say that," Micky answered. "I just said we don't have much of a leg to stand on. No pun intended. Marcy isn't going to talk to them."

"Maybe she will if she sees you doing it," Mike said.

"Well, they aren't going to listen to me," Micky argued. "My abuse happened 8 years ago."

"They can still charge them for it," Peter said. "And they can't charge Mike for anything because he was acting in self-defense."

"They can charge us with kidnapping," Micky argued.

"I doubt they would once it was proven there was abuse in the home," Peter said. "The most they might charge you with is custodial interference."

"What?" Davy asked.

"It's kind of a lesser charge of kidnapping," Peter explained. "You don't usually serve jail time. You just get community service. But given the situation, I doubt they'd even charge either of you with anything."

"Yeah, but we have to prove it, and we can't," Micky said.

"So are we just going to hide her here until she's 18?" Davy asked.

"I don't know," Micky said.

"You can't," Mike said. "I told you before, you can't hide. They will find you."

"How can you be sure of that?" Micky asked. "I have to do something and if I go to the cops and get arrested, they're just going to send her back there."

"Just trust me on this one," Mike said. Micky thought he saw a flash of despair cross Mike's face, but he instantly hardened as if trying to make himself stronger. "You can't hide forever. No one can. It will only end badly."

"You ok, Mike?" Davy asked apparently also seeing this change in Mike.

"Of course I'm not ok!" he burst out. "I have to deal with the mob coming after Peter's sister, your drugged up mother attacking Micky and now Micky being stabbed in the leg by his own crazed parents while trying to rescue his own sister and refusing to go to the police or hospital! Do you guys honestly expect me to be ok after having to deal with all of your problems?!"

"Mike, no one is expecting you to shoulder any of this," Micky said. He was about to say more when the phone rang.

"Now what!?" Mike yelled at the phone.

"Don't worry, Mike," Peter said. "I'll get it. I'm sure it's nothing." When he answered the phone however, all the color drained from his face. He didn't say anything after hanging up until he was prodded.

"What happened?" Davy asked.

"That was the police," Peter said. "They said Davy's mom had been mumbling something about killing Davy so she could get his inheritance to her roommate at the hospital, and now she's…"

"She's what, Peter?" Micky asked.

"She's missing," Peter finished looking straight at Davy with fear in his eyes. "They think she escaped."

"Well isn't that just fan-freaking-tastic!" Mike said. "As if I didn't have enough to worry about; now you're mother has turned murderous!"


	9. Losing Control

Author's Note: So glad everyone is enjoying this. :D

Chapter 9: Losing Control

Peter didn't really know what to do or say. Micky was lying on the couch injured, Davy was pale as a ghost and completely terrified and Mike was beginning to snap. Or he'd already snapped. Peter really hadn't wanted to say anything about the phone call because Mike was already coming unhinged before it, but now he'd probably completely lost it. Peter felt guilty, but knew he couldn't have kept that phone call a secret. The only thing it would have done is put Davy blindly in danger.

"Mike, calm down," Micky said. "Breathe."

"I _am_ breathing, Micky!" Mike yelled.

"Mike, I'm really sorry," Peter offered.

"Peter, it's not your fault," Micky said. "None of this is any of our faults. These things just happen."

"Oh yeah, they just happen," Mike said sarcastically. "You go running after some stranger in a train station and we end up nearly being shot at, then you go aggravating another strange woman and end up almost being stabbed, then you go chase after a little girl you don't know and get your leg sliced open!"

"Don't blame this on Micky!" Peter exclaimed.

"What was I supposed to do, Mike?" Micky asked shocked. "Let Peter's sister get shot? Whether I knew her or not, there's no way you can say I should have just walked away and done nothing."

"You let the cops take care of this stuff!" Mike defended.

"You know as well as I do the cops never would have made it in time to save her," Micky said now standing up to square off with Mike. Peter really wanted to get him to sit back down as they had just bandaged up his leg moments before and he needed to be resting it. "He was about two seconds away from putting a bullet through her head when we got there as it was! And the cops weren't even trying to help MY sister! And we let the cops deal with Brittainy, and look where that ended up! Excuse me if I don't have a lot of faith in the cops right about now!"

"Micky, sit down please," Peter pled.

"Mike, I don't know where you got this hair-brained idea that you are the only one shouldering any of this," Micky continued ignoring Peter. "But you better knock it off, ok. You are not alone. These are our problems, not yours. If you choose to be a part of it, fine. But don't you dare throw it back in our faces. You have every right to walk out that door right now. No one told you that you had to stay here and deal with this. No one told you that what happens to us is your responsibility." There was a long lapse of silence between the four of them that felt so sickening that Peter wanted to run to the bathroom and throw up. He agreed with everything Micky had said, but didn't think Micky should be yelling at Mike like that. Apparently it worked though, because after several long, silent, tension-filled minutes, Mike finally let out a deep breath as though pulling himself back together.

"You're right, Micky," Mike said. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I snapped like that."

"Because you're tired, angry, scared, and worried," Micky said calmly. "Don't be sorry. It's fine."

"I am, though," Mike said. "I shouldn't have said those things. You're right. And so is Peter; please sit back down."

"Everyone has their moments where they break," Micky said lowering himself back down carefully. "I didn't take anything you said personally."

"Good," Mike said. "Davy, are you ok?" Everyone turned to Davy now who stood there still white as a ghost and just staring off into space.

"Davy?" Peter asked walking over to him.

"She wants to kill me?" Davy breathed breaking away from his blank stare to look directly at Peter but never losing his horrified expression.

"I'm sorry, Davy," he said.

"She won't," Mike said firmly. "I may have every choice in the world to walk away, but I'm not going to. There's no way I'm going to walk away and let any of you get hurt any further than you already are. No matter how stressed or overwhelmed I feel; I care way too much about you guys to just walk away. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you."

"We feel the exact same way," Micky said.

"So what's the plan now?" Peter asked. "Do we just keep an eye on Davy until the police find his mom?"

"It's all we can do," Mike said sitting down in a chair and rubbing his head.

"What about Patty?" Peter asked.

"If we go back out and look for Barty, that's just putting Davy out there," Micky pointed out. "And I am not leaving Marcy until I can convince her to talk to the police."

"You aren't going anywhere on that leg at all," Mike said.

"Well, Brittainy already knows where I live, so staying here is going to be just as dangerous as if I were to leave," Davy said. "So I could go out with Peter and look for Barty."

"You don't know what he looks like, and Peter would have to stay hidden until you find him," Mike pointed out. "So I would have to go with you which would leave Micky here alone. With Barty trying to kill Patty, Brittainy trying to kill you and Micky's parents now trying to kill him, I do not want to leave him here alone."

"Our parents are trying to kill you?" Marcy asked from the doorway of the bathroom. None of them had heard her and Patty leaving the bathroom. Peter looked over at the girl who looked really scared. She had been holding Patty's hand, but yanked away and ran for Micky jumping back into his arms. "I'm sorry!" she cried.

"Marcy, relax," Micky said. "It's going to be ok. I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it."

"I'm sorry," she repeated through tears. "It's my fault. They want to kill you because of me."

"No, that's not it," Micky said sounding a little choked and pulling her away so he could look her straight in the eyes. "They want to kill me because of me. They hurt me just like they hurt you. I didn't want them to do that to you anymore, so I _chose_ to come get you. It's no one's fault but theirs. They are the only ones to blame in any of this, you understand?"

"That's right," Mike said moving to kneel down next to her and placing a comforting hand on her back. "It's no one's fault but theirs."

"I heard you yelling," she said looking at him. Mike closed his eyes in remorse and Peter's heart sank.

"You heard that, huh?" Mike said opening his eyes again.

"He didn't mean anything he said, Marcy," Micky said. "People sometimes say things they don't mean when they're upset."

"Is he upset with you?" Marcy asked.

"No," Mike said tucking Marcy's hair gently behind her ear. "I know it sounded like I was, but I'm not upset with Micky. I'm upset with the people who are trying to hurt the people I care about. I'm really sorry I said any of those things. I promise I didn't mean anything I said. Do you forgive me?" Marcy thought about it for only a second before nodding her head. Mike smiled and gave her a hug.

"Ok, so how about we officially introduce you," Micky said. "That's Peter and that's Davy. Patty is Peter's sister."

"Hi, Marcy," Peter said with the best smile he could muster. He felt pained looking at the large, dark, round bruise on her cheek and a cut on the other one. In one hand she held on to a little doll and held on to Micky with the other hand.

"Hi, Peter," she said smiling back at him.

"Thank you for taking care of her, Patty," Micky said.

"Not a problem," Patty answered smiling. "Are you guys all ok now?"

"We're fine now," Mike said. "Just a lot to deal with."

"Marcy, did you eat this morning at the group home?" Micky asked and Marcy answered by shaking her head. "Ok, and I know Mom and Dad didn't give you anything to eat, so why don't you see if Patty can make you something to eat." She looked at Micky like she didn't want to leave him again. "I'm right here, sweetie. Not going anywhere. You'll still be able to see me, but I want you to eat a decent meal. I know it's been a while since you had one, ok?"

"I make some really good spaghetti," Patty offered. "And you can help me if you want to." Marcy seemed to consider it a moment, but then she gave Micky another hug and jumped back down to follow Patty into the kitchen. The four boys gathered a little closer to Micky so they could continue working out a plan quietly so as not to distress Marcy any further.

"So what happens now?" Peter said. "If Micky can't leave and Davy can't stay here, what do we do?"

"I don't know," Mike said. "We might have to wait a little bit."

"Do you know how long it might take the police to find Brittainy?" Micky asked.

"It's possible she doesn't want to kill me," Davy offered, though he sounded like he was just trying to convince himself more than anything. "Maybe she was just babbling about nothing. Maybe she just took off to get more drugs."

"What did they say about your dad?" Mike asked. "Did they find him?"

"Yeah," Davy answered. "They said he died of a typical overdose. His body was found in San Francisco."

"Well, at least we know she didn't kill him," Mike said. "So it's possible she just took off."

"Why don't I just stay here and watch over Micky, Patty, and Marcy," Davy offered.

"Davy-" Micky started to argue.

"No, it's fine," Davy said. "I can handle her. I've done it before, and besides, if anything happens, she'll be outnumbered."

"I don't want to put Marcy in any danger," Micky said.

"She won't be," Davy insisted. "I won't let anything happen to her. I have no issues taking down Brittainy if it comes to that."

"I don't know, Davy," Mike started. "I kind of agree with Micky. Micky's currently down and can't do much to fight back should something happen, and I don't know how good Patty is at protecting herself. You might be a little overwhelmed trying to protect Micky, Patty and Marcy as well as yourself."

"I'm not exactly completely down," Micky argued.

"You're down enough," Peter agreed. "Who knows what kind of weapon Brittainy may have."

"Well, don't you think the longer we wait to take care of Barty, the more chance he has of spilling the beans to Peter's family?" Davy pointed out. The other three grew silent for a moment. Peter hadn't thought of that and apparently neither had Micky or Mike.

"Patty can take care of herself," Peter said. "We come from a family of criminals after all. We grew up surrounded by violence; we know how to hurt other people, but we also know how to run if we have to. Davy's right, but so is Micky. So how about this: Mike and I go look for Barty and if anyone should come here and cause problems, be that Micky's parents or Davy's mother or even Barty, you all run instead of trying to fight back. We will agree to meet somewhere should anything happen."

"I like it," Mike said. "We meet at the Vincent Van Go-Go. First hint of any trouble guys. No heroics. Just run. Got it?"

"Got it," Micky and Davy said in unison.

"I mean it," Mike reaffirmed. "First sign of trouble."

"Trust me," Micky said. "There's no way I'm going to let anything else happen to Marcy. She's been through enough as it is."

"Agreed," Davy added.

* * *

Micky and Davy spent the next several hours trying to entertain Marcy and make her feel comfortable. Micky knew he'd have to try and convince her to tell the truth about their parents to the police, but he wanted to make sure she felt perfectly comfortable first; that she felt safe for the first time in her life. And considering everything she's been through so far, that was going to take a lot of work. So far, Patty and Marcy had taken to each other fairly well, which was good in Micky's eyes; if anything happened, Marcy wouldn't hesitate to leave with Patty if Micky had to fall behind.

"Do you guys play music?" Marcy asked seeing the instruments in the corner of the room.

"Yeah, we're a band," Davy said. "We're the Monkees."

"Are you guys good?" she asked giggling a little.

"Of course we are," Micky laughed. "We just haven't proven it to the rest of the world yet."

"Tell you what," Davy said. "We'll take you to one of our gigs one of these days."

"Really?" she asked her face lighting up. "I love music! I'm just not allowed to listen to it a lot."

"Why not?" Davy asked confused.

"I'm always too busy doing my chores," she said getting a little sad now.

"That's all in the past now," Micky said squeezing her hand.

"What's gonna happen to me now?" Marcy asked.

"Well, that all depends," Micky said taking a deep breath. He really didn't want to push her, but knew he had to try and convince her to talk to the police. And on the other hand, he really didn't know what would happen; they barely made enough money to take care of themselves, let alone an 8 year old girl, too.

"I don't want to talk to the police," Marcy said growing sad again. "Mommy and daddy already hurt you because you helped me. I don't want them to hurt you again because I told the police about them."

"Well, if you tell the police, they'll lock your mommy and daddy away," Davy tried. "Then they won't be able to hurt us."

"But the police won't believe me," she countered.

"They will this time," Micky tried. "Mike and I both saw what they were doing. He and I will be right there with you and back you up."

"I don't want you to get hurt anymore because of me," she insisted.

"Why don't we worry about all this later," Patty said.

"Agreed," Micky said glad to be able to change the subject for now. He could tell how smart Marcy was, and she'd been burned by the system before. Truth be told, he didn't exactly trust the system either, so he couldn't blame her for not wanting to talk to the cops. But at the same time, he didn't think keeping her here at the house was the best thing for her either. Not only were they constantly broke, but he didn't really know the first thing about raising a kid.

* * *

Mike drove through the streets of Malibu hoping that he would find Barty. At the same time, he hoped he didn't; he didn't really want to do what he knew he would probably have to do. Peter was ducked in the back seat again trying to keep out of sight in case they did find him. It was only about an hour after they had set out that Mike finally saw him. He wasn't alone however; he was with another woman with long blonde hair. Mike's heart sank; he really hoped that woman was just a local giving him directions or something. But with the luck they'd been having lately, he doubted very much that was the case.

"Hey, Pete?" Mike asked hesitantly. "What…uh…what does your mom look like?"

"Why?" Peter asked popping up from the backseat. Mike quickly reached back and pushed him back down; their car was very flashy and attracted a lot of attention and if the woman _was_ his mother and looked over here, they'd be in a whole lot of trouble.

"Get down!" Mike hissed and tried to circle around the block to a position they could hide.

"Did you find him?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, and he's with a blonde woman," Mike answered.

"That's not good," Peter said.

"Exactly why you need to stay down," Mike agreed.

"Well, my mother is definitely blonde," Peter started. "She's about as tall as I am and she has blue eyes."

"How long is her hair?" Mike asked.

"She likes to keep it really long, but it's been a while since I've seen her," Peter answered.

"Well, this woman does indeed have long hair," Mike said.

"This is really bad," Peter mused. "What do we do?"

"I don't know," Mike said as he pulled into a parking lot that barely overlooked the pair. "Take a look, Peter, but be careful." Peter poked his head up cautiously and Mike pointed in the direction of Barty and the mystery woman. Mike had his answer when Peter immediately went pale.

"This is bad," Peter repeated. "I can't believe she's here. This is really, really, really bad."

"Ok, something tells me your mother is going to see through our ruse," Mike started. "Not that it matters that much anyway, because we have our answer. I'm thinking we just go back to the pad and regroup. Figure out a new plan."

"Agreed," Peter said as he ducked back down. Mike pulled out of the parking lot and his stomach knotted when he noticed Barty pointing in their direction. Peter's mother turned to stare straight at Mike and he tried to act casual. He watched them both get into another car, however, and start following them at a high rate of speed.

"Crap!" Mike exclaimed as he floored it.

"What!?" Peter asked in a slightly terrified voice.

"He recognized the car," Mike answered taking a tight turn. "Peter, it's over; get up and buckle. We're going to have to try and lose them." Peter carefully climbed into the seat and buckled himself in throwing the wig down and turning to see how close the other car was getting to them.

"Mike, hurry!" Peter exclaimed.

"I'm trying, Peter!" Mike yelled back taking another sharp turn. Their pursuers were good, however, and took the same turn with ease. Mike sped the car up even faster while still trying to dodge other cars in the road.

"Mike, they're catching us!" Peter exclaimed.

"I can see that, Peter!" Mike snapped. He made another sharp turn, but their pursuers remained right behind them. Realizing they were just as adept at him as maneuvering, he tried something else; he took a sharp right turn followed by another one hoping to lose them. It didn't work; their car was so large that by the time their pursuers rounded the first turn, the back end of the Pontiac was still visible turning the other corner.

"Argh!" Mike growled in frustration. "This car was not made for this!"

"We have to lose them!"

"I know that, Peter! Look for something to throw at them."

"Got it!" Peter unbuckled just as Mike had to swerve to avoid a pedestrian causing Peter to fall on the floor with a thunk.

"Peter, I'm sorry," Mike called. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Peter answered rubbing his head and getting back up. "Just keep going!"

"I'm turning!" Mike warned before taking another sharp turn. Peter clutched the sides of the car and braced himself this time.

"I found paint!" Peter exclaimed.

"Why do we have paint in my car?" Mike said slightly annoyed but knowing full well who'd left it there.

"Micky was working on that model last week and must have left it here," Peter answered.

"I told him not to leave it in my car," Mike said.

"Are you really arguing about it now? It's a perfect thing to throw at them and blind them!"

"No, you're right! Do it!" Mike _was_ annoyed that Micky had left the paint in his car where it could have easily ruined the interior, but also had to admit, it was a blessing right now. Peter popped the lid off and Mike cringed hoping that none of it would get on the seats of his car. Peter tossed the lid out the car to the side and carefully took aim at their pursuers. Then he lobbed the paint can just as Mike had to swerve to avoid another pedestrian. The paint landed on the hood of their pursuer's car and Peter and Mike let out an exclamation of victory. Their joy was short lived, however, when Mike saw Barty lean out the window with a gun in his hand. Peter ducked just as the first bullet was fired at them.

"Ack!" Peter yelped making himself as flat as he could in the back seat.

"Peter, you ok? Did they get you?"

"No, just missed me!"

"Hang on!" Mike said determined to lose their pursuers. He yanked the wheel as hard as he could and the tires screeched as he turned the car around to face them for just a split second before turning down another side street. Peter tried to hand on, but was tossed around in the back seat a little nonetheless. "Peter? You ok?"

"I'm ok," Peter said. "Just keep going. Please, Mike, just keep going!" Mike nodded and yanked the wheel to turn down another street. He looked behind them and saw they had put some distance between them and their pursuers, but it wasn't enough. Ahead of him was an open stretch of highway that ran parallel to the beach. It was nearly empty, but didn't have many turns. Mike floored it again hoping to put some more distance between them. He heard more sounds of gunfire as his pursuers entered the same stretch of road, but they were still a considerable distance behind them. Peter shrank back down into the seat to avoid being hit, but Mike didn't have that luxury. He felt one whiz by his head and almost had a panic attack. He forced himself to breath and focus on the road ahead of him. He tried desperately to remember what the road was like a ways ahead and what he could possibly do to lose his pursuers. He remembered a specific winding road that might help them, so when he finally reached the turn for it, he turned. Tires smoked and squealed once again against the pavement as Mike didn't let up on the accelerator this time. He felt one more bullet above his head, but kept going. He wound through streets taking as many turns as he could as fast as he could and he thought he finally lost them.

His sigh of relief was short lived, however, when one of the tires on the car suddenly exploded. At the rate of speed he was still going, this caused the car to careen out of control. He gripped the wheel tightly and tried to steer the car back into control, but it was useless. The car had simply been going too fast. He tried calling out to Peter to jump out of the car before it crashed into anything, but wasn't sure if Peter heard him over the sounds the tires and the wheel rim were making against the pavement. He tried turning the car away from the large building in front of them and tried to slow the car down, but he still ended up crashing into the barrier and plowing headfirst onto the beach.


	10. Hiding

Author's Note: I would like to thank you all for such amazing reviews! It's those reviews that keep me going! You're so wonderful!

There are a couple bad words in here, but I don't think they're that bad. Sorry to anyone I may offend with them.

Chapter 10: Hiding

Peter was filled with fear as he heard the tire explode. He had been tightly pressed into the seat, and was thrown violently to the floor as the car began to careen out of control. He vaguely heard Mike yell at him to jump out of the car, so he carefully jumped as Mike kept the car from spinning out completely and jumped. He tucked his body as close together as he could as he landed on sand and rolled. He felt the full impact hit him and the sand scratched mercilessly at his face and arms, but he tried to ignore the pain. Once he stopped rolling, he jumped up and looked for Mike, assuming Mike had jumped soon after him. He hadn't.

Peter spotted the car about half a mile ahead. It had crashed into the sand and only then had come to a stop. Mike was still in the driver's seat; not moving. Peter's blood froze fearing the worst, and he ran as fast as he could to the car. When he finally reached the car, he saw Mike was slumped on the steering wheel with blood dripping down his face and his eyes were closed. Peter felt the side of his friend's neck and was relieved to feel a pulse. At least Mike was alive.

"Mike!" Peter yelled trying to wake him up. "Mike, wake up! Please, wake up!" It wasn't working; Mike was out cold. Peter looked around for someone to help him, but no one was around. He knew his mother and Barty weren't far behind them and would soon find them, so he had to think of something. He spotted an old abandoned lifeguard building a few feet away and decided to try and hide out in there. He carefully unbuckled Mike and pulled him from the car. Careful not to move Mike's neck around too much, he grabbed him under the arms and dragged him as quickly as he could toward the lifeguard station. Once he got him up the ramp, he lay Mike down in front of the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. He looked around for a way to pry it open, but there was nothing. He walked around and spotted a window that had already been broken by vandals. He climbed through it, careful not to cut himself on the glass, and ran to the door. He unlocked it and yanked the door open before dragging Mike in toward the middle of the room. Thinking that he needed to cover up their tracks, he dashed back outside and quickly kicked a lot of sand around in front of him as he walked backwards toward the lifeguard station. He then ran back and slammed the door shut and locked it again just in time to see the outline of his mother's car coming around the bend where they had lost control. Pushing himself against the door, he prayed that they didn't see him. He heard them slow down and pull off on the side of the road and stayed completely still so as not to make a sound.

"They crashed," he heard his mother say.

"Where did they go?" Barty asked.

"They ran, of course," his mother answered. "I don't see any tracks, so they must have run up the road. Get back in the car." Peter breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the car pull away. He carefully looked out the window to make sure they had left before running over to Mike.

"Mike, please wake up," Peter said, but again nothing happened. Mike looked terrible and Peter wanted to cry. His leg looked a little twisted and Peter could now see a sizeable gash on Mike's head from bouncing off the steering wheel. He looked around the room thinking there had to be a phone or at least a first aid kit here. He spied the phone first and dashed over to it, but it didn't work. He threw the phone across the room in frustration. Forcing himself to focus, he found the first aid kit and was glad when he found it fully stocked. He knelt down on the floor next to Mike and started wiping the blood from his face. He placed a square bandage over the gash on Mike's head and taped it. He wasn't exactly sure what to do about Mike's leg, but he checked to make sure it wasn't broken.

He thought about leaving to go get help, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Mike all alone unconscious on the floor. He tried to wake Mike up again, but nothing worked. So he put a rolled up towel under Mike's head as a pillow and sat on the floor next to Mike to just wait. Mike had to wake up soon. He just had to. After about an hour, he heard Mike groan in pain and Peter moved to make sure Mike didn't try and get up by placing a soft hand on his shoulder.

"Mike?" he asked. "Mike, are you ok?"

"Peter?" Mike groaned out. He opened his eyes slowly, but winced in pain after a moment.

"Be careful, Mike," Peter cautioned. "You hit your head pretty hard."

"What happened?"

"We crashed trying to get away from my mom," Peter answered. "Do you remember?"

"Now I do," Mike answered. He moved to sit up, but Peter pushed him back down.

"Don't," Peter cautioned again. "You're hurt pretty bad. Just rest."

"Are you ok?" Mike asked.

"I'm fine," Peter answered. "A little banged and bruised, but other than that, fine. Thanks to you. If I'd been in the car when it crashed into the sand, I might be in the same condition you are and then we'd be dead. My mom and Barty found the car, but I'd pulled you in here and erased the tracks so they wouldn't find us."

"That was really smart thinking," Mike said trying again to get back up. "But we can't stay here."

"Mike, you really need to rest!" Peter said trying to push him back down.

"I can rest at home," Mike argued. "We can't leave Micky and Davy all alone. You're mom knows you're here now and she's probably come to the conclusion you're hiding Patty. The logical next step would be to find where you live to find Patty. Micky can barely walk and Patty and Davy have Marcy to worry about, too. We can't stay here." Peter's stomach instantly knotted; he hadn't thought of that. What if his mom had already found them? He'd been too worried about Mike to worry about the others. Mike tried to get up, but fell right back down groaning in pain as he twisted his already messed up leg.

"Careful," Peter said. "You twisted something in your leg, I think."

"Help me up, Peter," Mike said. Peter complied and together they made it out of the lifeguard station. It took nearly an hour for them to walk back to their pad with Mike hanging off Peter's shoulders and a few times, Mike nearly passed out again. They followed the beach along, so they reached the back door of the pad and Peter carefully helped Mike sit down on the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll go get Davy," Peter said. Mike nodded and leaned his head against the railing on the stairs. "Mike, stay awake!" Peter exclaimed as Mike closed his eyes.

"I am," Mike said. "I'm just tired."

"Just stay here," Peter said. "I'll go get Davy and we'll bring you up upstairs." Peter ran up the stairs as fast as he could, terrified that Mike was going to pass out again. If he did, Peter wasn't sure he'd wake up again. He ripped open the back door to the house, startling the others.

"Peter!" Patty exclaimed who'd been sitting right next to the door playing with Marcy. "You scared the daylights out of me!"

"What's wrong?" Davy and Micky asked in unison instantly recognizing the worried and pained expression Peter knew he wore on his face.

"Where's Mike?" Micky asked.

"At the bottom of the stairs," Peter explained. "Davy, help me carry him up."

"Why do we need to carry him?" Davy asked sounding worried.

"We got into a little accident," Peter explained. "We were trying to outrun my mom and crashed."

"Mom's here?" Patty asked jumping up and looking terrified.

"Yes," Peter answered. "Davy, help me?" Davy rushed over and followed Peter down the stairs. When they got to the bottom, Peter was devastated to discover Mike had passed out again and had fallen over onto the ground.

"Mike!" Davy exclaimed upon seeing him.

"Oh, Mike," Peter moaned. "I told you to stay awake! Davy, help me lift him. Careful, though, he twisted his leg." Davy looked extremely worried, but grabbed Mike by the legs while Peter grabbed him by the arms and they carried him up the stairs. Micky moved quickly off the couch to make room for Mike and sat in a chair. Patty dragged over another chair so he could at least keep his leg propped.

"Great," Davy said. "Now we're two men down."

"Is he gonna be ok?" Marcy asked.

"He hit his head really hard," Peter said waving at the bandage on his head. "I hid us in a lifeguard station for a while. Lucky they had a full stock of first aid."

"So what do we do now?" Davy asked.

"I don't know," Peter said nearing tears again. "Mike, wake up. Please, please, please…"

"Peter, tell me what happened," Micky said firmly. Micky was sliding effortlessly into the leadership role Mike usually took, which was very comforting to Peter. Peter recounted everything that had happened, never once taking his eyes off Mike and willing him to wake up again. "We can't stay here," Micky said when Peter had finished.

"What do you mean?" Davy asked. Micky sighed and looked over at Patty who was holding tightly on to Marcy. They both looked scared.

"Your mother is bound to find out where you live," Micky said after a short pause. "Davy, your mom already knows where you live. And my parents will probably figure it out, too. Mike's down and I can't walk. That just leaves you two and Patty to take care of Marcy. We can't protect ourselves here. We're sitting ducks. We have to leave."

"Where are we going to go exactly?" Davy asked.

"And how are we going to get there?" Peter added. "We don't have a car."

"How bad is it?" Micky asked.

"I don't know really," Peter admitted. "I was more concerned about Mike."

"Of course you were," Micky answered. "I would have been, too. Ok, there's an abandoned warehouse not too far from here. It's not perfect, but it'll have to do for now. Davy, can you call Mr. Crumpets and see if he can tow the car into his garage for a while?"

"Yeah," Davy nodded and dashed toward the phone.

"I'll go get a few things packed for us," Peter said and he dashed off to pack anything they might need such as clothes and sleeping bags.

* * *

An hour later after Patty and Marcy gathered up a little bit of food and Davy made sure they had medical supplies for Micky and Mike, they were ready to go. Micky couldn't walk well, so he leaned on Davy for a little support while Patty and Peter carefully carried Mike in between them as he still hadn't woken up again. Marcy helped to carry some of the things they had packed keeping close to Micky. Once they had gotten to the warehouse, they snuck in unnoticed and made themselves comfortable. Micky felt very tired and lay down on one of the sleeping bags.

"Patty, can I talk to you for a minute?" Micky asked wanting to do this before he took a nap. Patty nodded and came over to sit next to him. Micky spoke quietly so the others wouldn't hear. "Patty, I need you to promise me something. If anything happens and we have to split up, I want you to take Marcy. She likes you; she trusts you."

"Micky, I-" she started, but Micky cut her off.

"I don't want it to have to come down to it, but it may have to," he said. "If you have to leave us behind, I need to know Marcy is going to be taken care of. Please promise me, Patty." Patty's eyes filled with tears a little as she thought about this possibility, but she finally nodded and wiped the tears away.

"I promise, Micky," she said. "You saved my life twice. If I can't return the favor, I'll do it for Marcy."

"Thank you," Micky said. Patty got up and walked away trying to keep herself strong. "I'm gonna lay down for a bit," Micky said to the others. "Keep an eye on Mike. Make sure to keep his leg iced and change his bandage in a few hours."

"Sure thing, Micky," Peter said taking a spot on the floor next to Mike to keep an eye on him. Micky knew that Peter felt really guilty about what happened to Mike and he wished he could do something to make Peter feel better, but knew there wasn't much he could do; when Peter got into one of his guilty moods it was hard to snap him out of it. It was an endearing quality because it showed his compassion and loyalty, but it was also annoying because he had nothing to feel guilty for. Davy sat next to Peter by Mike's side and Patty sat down on Peter's other side. Marcy surprised Micky by curling up next to him. He smiled and wrapped his arm around her protectively before drifting off to sleep.

_Micky woke up with a pain in his back. He remembered being kicked the day before by his father, and now he felt it. Carefully he pulled himself out of bed and shut off the alarm clock before it woke up his mother or father. He was in enough pain as it was, and the day wasn't even a minute old. He got dressed, wincing in pain when he bent over to the bottom drawer to get a pair of jeans out. He didn't normally wear jeans, but since he knew that today would be yard work day, he decided it was best. _

_Once he had dressed and brushed his teeth, he went into the kitchen to make himself some cereal. His mother had taped his chore list to the fridge the night before and with a heavy sigh, he read it over while eating. It was written on two sides of a piece of paper; it was going to be a long day. He finished his bowl of cereal and started to work on the kitchen. There were a lot of dishes from the night before because his parents had a few friends over and of course, they'd all gotten drunk and made as much of a mess as they could. It took him nearly 2 hours just to clean the kitchen. _

_The next task on his list was the yard work. He'd have to rake the gravel out front and the grass out back; he'd have to pull all the weeds around the house; he'd have to sweep the driveway and sidewalk in front of the house; he'd have to wash the windows. This task took him nearly 4 hours to do, and by the time he was done, he was incredibly thirsty. His parents had woken up by now, but they wouldn't let Micky in the house unless he had to go to the bathroom while he was working on his chores. He finally finished, and his mother brought him a small glass of water and started inspecting his work. She told him he'd done an adequate job and told him to move to the rest of the list. _

_By the time the sun had begun to set, Micky had been working around the house nonstop. He'd cleaned and organized the garage in addition to the yard work and cleaning the kitchen. He'd cleaned the living room while his parents had gone out to eat at a nice restaurant (he'd eaten a peanut butter sandwich for lunch) because he'd just get in their way while they were watching TV if he cleaned the living room while they were there. When they returned, he'd started on laundry for all three of them. As the laundry was going, he finally had a chance to sit and do some homework. He was forced to sit outside, because his parents didn't want to see or hear him. But he wasn't able to do it for very long as his father suddenly became enraged. _

"_Get in here, you little shit!" his father's voice boomed through the closed back door. Micky braced himself for what he knew was coming and entered the house. _

"_Yes, sir?" he asked confused as to what he had done now to make his father angry. _

"_What is this!?" his father boomed throwing a piece of paper at him. Micky picked it up and saw it was a letter from his teacher. His stomach hit the floor realizing his teacher was telling them that she thought someone was abusing him and that because of that she'd notified social services._

"_I didn't say anything to her," Micky said quickly. Why on earth would his teacher tell them that she'd contact social services? Didn't she realize that would only make things worse? _

"_Really?" his father asked standing up and puffing himself up to his full terrifying height. Micky braced himself, but still fell to the ground when his father's hand hit the side of his head. Micky's vision blurred and he tried not to cry out in pain. That only gave his father the satisfaction. "You're nothing but a damn troublemaker! We give you food, clothes, and a damn roof over your head! We even give you a bed to sleep in and this is how you repay us?"_

"_If social services takes you away, you won't get any of those luxuries," his mother spat. _

"_Luxeries?" Micky repeated before he could stop himself. "My clothes are either too big or too small, and my bed has so many broken springs it's a wonder I don't get stabbed while I sleep. Not to mention I basically only eat cereal and bread all day!" Micky knew he'd done it this time. He tried to scramble away, but his father grabbed the back of his hair and threw him against the wall. Micky's head bounced off the wall and once again Micky's vision blurred. _

"_How dare you!" his father boomed in a voice so loud Micky was sure the neighbors would hear. Then he started screaming terrible, foul names at Micky, but he barely heard it. All he heard was blood pumping through his ears as he tried to force his vision to come back. He'd gotten several concussions over the years and as long as he focused, he could usually bring himself back and push the pain away. After everything he'd gone through over the past dozen years, he had a very high pain tolerance. He had to. If he didn't, he'd have surely broken into a thousand pieces by now. He finally was able to push himself back to the present situation just as his father grabbed him and lifted him up off the ground. _

"_You had better talk to that teacher at school on Monday," his mother said as Micky's father threw him across the room. "Tell her to mind her own damn business."_

"_I will," Micky breathed, pain coursing through his body again. He tensed up when his father strode over to him and smacked him across the face again. Micky fell to the ground and found it much harder to push himself back up. His father just laughed and kicked Micky in the stomach. Micky felt like he wanted to throw up, but swallowed it back down. _

"_Speak up, you little shit," his father said. _

"_I said I will," Micky repeated. His voice was hoarse and choked from pain, which caused his father to laugh. The laugh made Micky even sicker. The next think Micky knew, his father had stomped on his face. Micky felt blood leak out his nose as pain exploded in his head. All he heard was a ringing in his ears, and his vision went completely dark. _

"_Don't get blood on my carpet!" his mother shrieked. "Get up and clean that up before it stains!" Micky pulled all the strength he had and ran into the bathroom. He immediately threw up in the toilet, only just barely making it in time. He tried to breathe and focus to keep himself from passing out. He knew if he did, it would only be worse. The one time he'd done that, he'd woken up with more bruises than he could count and he couldn't even get out of bed all day, which of course meant he couldn't do that days' chores so he'd had to do them the following day in addition to the already assigned chores. _

_Once he'd forced himself to breathe and his vision had returned to the best he thought it was going to, he pushed himself up and grabbed the cleaning supplies to clean his blood out of the carpet. His knees were weak from pain and his movements were wobbly. His parents were sitting on the couch waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. He felt both of them staring him down as he cleaned. _

"_You'd better not have made a mess in that bathroom," his father cautioned when Micky finally got up. _

"_I didn't, sir," Micky said. _

"_Go clean it anyway," his mother told him. "Top to bottom. Shower, counters, mirror, floor, everything. Spotless. So help you if I find anything."_

"_Yes, Ma'am," Micky said walking slowly to the bathroom. When he got there, he set the cleaning supplies on the counter and sat on the floor. He made sure the door was locked behind him and he relaxed as much as he could until he would have to start cleaning. It took another 2 hours to clean the bathroom because of how much pain he was in, and he was finally able to lie down in his bed again. He hadn't eaten anything for dinner, but he would have just thrown it up anyway. His entire body ached and his head was pounding as he lay it down on his old, flat pillow, but by sheer force of exhaustion from the day's work coupled with the pain of fighting off unconsciousness allowed him to pass out within a second after climbing in bed. _


	11. Splitting Up

Author's Note: Very short chapter, but I there's a lot happening. Enjoy!

Chapter 11: Splitting Up

"Micky, wake up!" Micky snapped awake at the sound of one of his friends yelling. He was still a little groggy and wasn't sure what was happening, but the urgency behind the voice made him suddenly become extremely alert. He felt someone gripping his waist tightly and realized it was Marcy who'd curled up against him as he had fallen asleep. It was Peter who'd yelled at him. He had a look of pure terror on his face, and it didn't take Micky long to figure out why. Davy's mother was standing in the room with a gun pointed directly at him.

"Brittainy, please," Davy was pleading. Micky wondered why they hadn't tried to run, but he pushed that out of his mind; he didn't have time to deal with it. Mike was awake, but he wasn't exactly coherent. He looked like he was drifting in and out and couldn't think straight. Patty was frozen in fear next to Peter; both staring down the barrel of the gun praying it wouldn't go off. "Please, put the gun down."

"I want what's mine," Brittainy said. Micky could tell she was high again; she even sounded twitchy. "I want my money. And since you won't give it to me, there's only one other way to get it." Micky's mind started racing. They'd have to think of something and fast. This woman was clearly jittery and she could easily pull the trigger in a heartbeat with the smallest twitch. And since the gun was pointed directly at Davy's head only a few feet away, he had no doubt her aim would be true.

"Brittainy," Micky said pushing himself up despite the pain in his leg. "You don't want to do this. If you kill him, you'll go to jail. You won't get the money that way either and you'll have to live the rest of your life knowing you killed the only son you had left."

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm the man trying to help you right now," Micky said raising his hands in the air. He took steady steps towards her to seem much less threatening. He hoped that by walking towards her, she'd train the gun on him instead of Davy. It worked. Marcy grabbed the back of his pant leg trying to keep him near her. Pulling his leg out of her grasp broke his heart, but he wanted to get as far away from her as he could. Patty motioned for Marcy to move next to her.

"Help me?" Brittainy echoed. "Why would you help me?"

"Because no one else is," he answered. He was trying the sympathy card. And he was trying to keep her distracted so Marcy could make it close to Patty without being noticed. "You've burned an awful lot of bridges with a lot of people. Including your son. Now, he's one of my best friends, but I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and say you're not going to do what he thinks you're going to do. I say you're gonna put the gun down and walk away from this. Because I say there's a little piece of you that loves him. I say there's a piece of you that is a decent person. A good mother."

"I've always tried to be a good mother," she said.

"Bull-" Davy started.

"Davy!" Peter hissed grabbing him by the back of the shirt and pulling him out of the way. "Shush!" Brittainy had turned in Davy's direction, pointing the gun back at him. Micky quickly rushed closer to Brittainy to put himself between the gun and Davy. He knew what he had to do. He only hoped his plan would work and that Peter and Davy would do what needed to be done, no matter what that meant for Mike and Micky.

"Now, Brittainy," Micky said trying to pull her attention back to him. "Don't give me a reason to start doubting you. There are innocent people in this room. People who have nothing to do with any of this. I have faith that you don't want to see anything happen to them. I understand exactly how you feel. You lost the love of your life, and for that I am truly sorry. He would want you to have that money. I get it. And maybe we can work something out. But in order to do that, you need to put the gun down."

"It's my money," she said. "I earned it."

"Yes, you did," Micky said lying further. He knew there wasn't a shred of a chance she would ever see any of it, but he needed her to lower the gun. So he kept with the lies and kept praying Davy stayed silent. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Peter at least had caught on to what he was doing, which was surprising because usually Peter was a little slow on the draw. Davy opened his mouth to say something else, but Peter quickly clamped his hand over Davy's mouth to silence him. Patty was holding Marcy's hand tightly. All he needed now was for Brittainy to lower her gun.

"You can get it for me?" Brittainy asked not noticing anything Micky was.

"I can, but you have to lower the gun," Micky said taking a few steps toward her. He ignored the pain shooting through his leg, having long since gotten used to working through pain. Slowly, Brittainy lowered her gun and Micky seized his chance. Within two steps, he'd closed the gap between himself and Brittainy and knocked her to the ground while simultaneously grabbing the gun and wrenching it from her grip. Her hands were very sweaty, so it was fairly easy. "Run!" he ordered Peter, Davy, Patty, and Marcy.

"What about you and Mike?" Peter asked as Patty grabbed Marcy and dragged her toward the door.

"Peter, get out of here!" Micky yelled as Brittainy tried to struggle to get up. He didn't know for how much longer he could keep her down and he needed Peter and Davy to escape. Davy seemed just as unwilling to leave them behind. "Mike would want you to get out. I'll take care of him, trust me! RUN! NOW!"

"But-" Davy started.

"Davy, if your mom found us, there's no telling who else has!" Micky screamed cutting Davy off after landing a punch to Davy's mother. "Taking me and Mike with you is going to slow you down! We have to split up! Now get out of here!" Peter finally relented and grabbed Davy by the back of the collar. The two took one last look at Micky and Mike before following Patty and Marcy. Micky threw another punch at Brittainy's face and finally succeeded in knocking her out. He got up and crossed to the window. Sure enough, he saw a shadow in the darkness walking towards them far away from the four retreating shadows. He cursed under his breath and moved to drag Mike out the back way. Unfortunately the back way was up a flight of stairs and Mike was still drifting in and out of consciousness and Micky felt fresh blood dripping from the cut on his leg.

As carefully yet quickly as he could, he grabbed Mike by the shoulders and started to drag him up the stairs. He made it all the way up whispering apologies to Mike the whole way due to the fact Mike kept moaning in pain. When he'd reached the top of the stairs, however, his heart sank. The figure he'd seen outside ripped open the door to the warehouse and Micky now saw two other figures enter behind the first. Two of them, Micky didn't recognize, but the third he immediately recognized as the brute who'd clobbered him in the train station: Barty. The woman standing next to him must have been Peter's mother, but he wasn't sure if the third man was Peter's father or not. They took only a second to look around before Barty spoke up.

"They're gone," he said. "We missed them again."

"Not quite," said the woman staring straight at Micky. "Looks like Peter left two of his friends behind." Barty smiled and started running up the stairs toward them. Micky would have to fight again. He waited until Barty had made it almost all the way up the stairs before Micky jumped up on the railing and kicked with both legs. It was enough to send Barty crashing head over heel down the flight of steps.

"Your goon is an idiot," said the unknown man. "Not that it matters much to me. I can kill my son from right here." Micky's mind spun. Son? The man pulled a gun out and pointed it directly at Mike who lay a few feet behind Micky still moaning. Micky didn't have time to give it much thought; he dashed over to try and block the man's shot. He heard gunfire and felt the bullet zip by his head followed by a shout from Peter's mother.

"No, you idiot!" she yelled. Micky turned to see she had pushed the man which is what caused him to miss. Micky took this temporary distraction to his advantage and started dragging Mike toward the exit again. He wasn't sure how far he could get, but he had to try.

"You said I could kill him if I helped you!" the man barked.

"Yes, but I need him alive to tell me where _my_ son and daughter are!" Peter's mother barked back.

"You only need one of them," the man growled.

"You know nothing about interrogating people, do you?" Peter's mother said. She grabbed the gun from him and took aim herself. Micky tried to run backwards as fast as he could, but couldn't get away before she fired a shot. For a split second he thought she'd missed, but then the ledge that he'd been standing on suddenly gave way. She'd shot out the support to it, and Mike and Micky fell to the ground. Micky's world went dark as soon as his body hit the ground.

* * *

Peter dragged Davy out of the warehouse and followed Patty as she pulled Marcy off to the left of the building. Peter caught a brief glimpse of a car pulling up, but it appeared they hadn't seen him. He worried for Mike and Micky, but kept going as Micky had asked them to. He kept telling himself that they had gotten out some other way. He stopped, however, when he heard the sound of a gunshot behind them. They were quite a ways away from the warehouse now, but they were close enough for all four of them to hear it. All four froze and turned to face the warehouse. In the few seconds they were staring unsure if they had really heard it, another shot rang out.

"Micky!" Marcy yelled and tried to run back, but was grabbed by Patty. Davy and Peter exchanged a look with each other that said everything they needed to actually say.

"Patty, go," Peter said running over to her and wrapping her in a hug. "You have to go. Run. Take Marcy with you. Micky would want that."

"I already promised him I would," Patty answered.

"Good," Davy said. "Get a cab. There's a ghost town about an hour outside of town. Take her there and hide. Make sure you aren't followed. I don't know how they keep finding us."

"Micky was right," Peter said. "They keep finding us because with them, we moved too slowly. That's why they didn't get out."

"Peter, don't talk like that," Patty pled as Marcy whimpered a little in anguish.

"Sorry," Peter said. "He's going to be fine, Marcy. Your brother is resilient. So is Mike."

"Peter, you better come back to me," Patty said hugging him again. "Don't do anything stupid." Peter didn't say anything. He wasn't going to make her a promise he wasn't sure if he could keep. Things were starting to get really bad and he didn't know what to do. Silently, he and Davy ran for the warehouse and Patty and Marcy ran the opposite direction. Once they reached the warehouse, they realized there were people walking around the outside of it. They would never be able to get close enough. But that meant that Micky and Mike were more than likely still alive.

"What do we do?" Davy asked.

"We have to get help," Peter answered.

"The cops?" Davy asked. "I thought you guys said the cops were corrupt."

"Some are," Peter said. "In all the years we've run into trouble, we've never run across crooked cops though. I am willing to take my chances now. I know Micky doesn't trust them right now, and Mike is too afraid of making more problems because my family has connections with cops and judges, but do you really see any other choice here?"

"We're horribly outnumbered," Davy said.

"And they have guns," Peter added.

"What if they kill Mike and Micky in the meantime," Davy asked.

"They won't," Peter said seeing a man he recognized and hoping he was right. "See that man? That's my cousin. My mom's in there. Which hopefully means that she's going to try and keep Mike and Micky alive long enough for one of them to tell her where I am and where my sister is."

"Which they won't do," Davy said.

"Exactly," Peter said. "So until we can get back here with help, they'll be fine."

"I really hope you're right," Davy muttered as the two ran back toward the heart of town where the police station was. Peter prayed he was right, too. Before they could even reach the police station, however, a car suddenly pulled in front of them and a man and woman emerged pointing guns at them.

"Well, look who we ran in to," the woman said. "These look like the boys from the picture. You're two of the Monkees, right?"

"Nope," Peter lied. "No Monkees here!"

"Shut up, idiot!" the man barked. "Get in the car." The man motioned for Peter to get into the front passenger seat. Peter gulped and did as he was asked; Davy followed suit getting in the back seat.

"What do you want with us?" Peter asked.

"You're friends with our son," said the woman getting in the backseat with Davy. "A man at a local nightclub told us who you are."

"Gave us your picture, too," the man said getting behind the wheel of the car and putting his gun away in a holster out of Peter's reach.

"Your son?" Davy asked.

"Yes," the woman said. "And you're going to tell us where he is."

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Peter tried again, but he knew he was a bad liar.

"Dolenz is his name," the man said. "He took our daughter, and we want her back."

"Don't try and play games with us, boys," the woman said.

"No games," Davy said.

"I forgot my cards anyway," Peter said trying to joke to ease the tension.

"We really don't know what you're talking about," Davy added. Peter yelped when Micky's father reached over and hit him across the face.

"Don't be a smart-mouth!" Micky's father barked.

"We aren't stupid," Micky's mother said. "We know you know where he is."

"You're going to tell us where he is and where my daughter is," Micky's dad growled. Peter clutched his nose in pain but stared straight ahead. Davy stayed as silent as Peter now. Neither of them were going to tell these two anything. Micky was already in enough trouble with Peter's family, they didn't need to add fuel to the fire.

"Fine," Micky's mother said. "Have it your way. Drive to the hotel. We'll get the information out of them one way or another."


	12. Darkness Brings Sleep

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the kind reviews!

Chapter 12: Darkness Brings Sleep

Micky heard voices in the distance. He wasn't sure what they were saying though; his head was swimming. His face felt a little wet on one side and he couldn't move. Soon he realized he couldn't move because he was tied to a chair. That's when the memories came flooding back to him. He opened his eyes and looked around the room for Mike, praying he was still alive and that by forcing Peter and Davy to leave him behind, he hadn't actually sacrificed his friend. But Mike was alive; he was also tied to a chair across from Micky. He was more awake, but still looked a little drowsy. He brightened a little when he saw Micky was awake.

"Micky!" he whispered. "You're ok!"

"Yeah," Micky whispered back. He looked around now for their captors and saw them on the other end of the warehouse talking. There were several more of them now and he realized they had been the voices he heard in the distance. He still couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

"Micky, what happened?" Mike asked in a low whisper. "Where are we?"

"You got in a wreck with Peter," Micky explained.

"Yeah, I remember that," Mike said. "Last thing I remember is getting to the pad."

"Yeah, I decided we had to leave because we were sitting ducks," Micky said. "Guess that didn't work so well. They found us anyway."

"They would have found us at the pad, too," Mike said. "Probably faster. Where are the others?"

"They ran," Micky said. "Davy's mom showed up first trying to shoot him. I tackled her and knocked her out. Then I made Peter and Davy run with Patty and Marcy. I told them you and I were slowing them down making them easier to find, so I told them to split up. Before I could get us out, Peter's mom showed up with Barty and…another guy who was talking like he was…"

"My dad?" Mike said looking solemn.

"He said he was going to kill his son and then aimed a gun at you," Micky said. "Peter's mom stopped him. But she shot the support holding the platform we were on out causing us to fall. I blacked out when I hit my head. I messed up, Mike. I'm sorry."

"No, you did just what I would have done," Mike said. "There's nothing you could have done differently. At least the others are safe. Why did Peter's mom stop my dad from shooting me?"

"She wants to interrogate us," Micky answered. "That's what I gathered. She said she wanted us both alive to do it. But then, I guess, he's going to kill you anyway. Why does he want to kill you?"

"Because I sent him to jail," Mike said.

"Why?"

"He killed my mom."

"What?! Why?"

"It was a long time ago. I was only 3 when my mom gave birth to my baby brother. He cried a lot more than I ever did, I guess, because my dad got really mad one night and shook him until he stopped crying. It killed him. My mom freaked and left. She picked me up from early school the next day and had everything packed already. She said we had to sneak away while he was at work. We spent the next 11 years hiding. She was too afraid of him because of all the years he beat up on her. She said he hit me a few times, but I don't remember. We bounced from apartment to apartment. We never stayed in one place too long. But he finally found us one day. He was angry at her for leaving him. So he shot her. I was too scared to even try to stop him. I should have done more to save her."

"Mike, you can't think like that. He would have killed you, too."

"He tried to shoot me, too, but it missed. I pretended he'd hit me and lay as still as I could trying to make him think I was dead, too. After he left, I called the police and they found him and arrested him. I testified against him at trial and he said he'd kill me for it. Aunt Kate raised me after that."

Micky didn't know what to say. They'd all had such horrible lives; but maybe that's why they were all so close to each other. They shared such dark secrets, even though none of them ever knew about it. But it all made sense to Micky. Peter was such a pacifist because he'd grown up around so much violence and crime and because of that, he hated it. Davy valued his freedom and independence so much because he pretty much had to raise himself. Micky goofed off all the time because he never really got to be a child and preferred to have fun than be responsible all the time. Mike always felt so responsible for everyone else because he was trying to make up for the thought that he couldn't save his mother.

"I don't know how he got out," Mike continued. "He was supposed to be in jail for 25 more years."

"Luck of the draw, kiddo," Mike's dad now said walking over to them.

"Don't call me 'kiddo'," Mike sneered.

"Whatever," Mike's dad said. "Turns out the prosecutor messed up; he manufactured a lot of evidence in several cases, including mine. Lucky for me, the verdict was overturned."

"Why didn't they tell Mike?" Micky asked.

"Beats me," Mike's dad laughed. "Not my job."

"Your job is to be a father, and it seems like you failed at that," Micky snapped. He really wasn't sure why he couldn't control his mouth sometimes, and he expected the hit he got in the face as soon as he spoke. Mike's dad hit about as hard as his own father did.

"Don't hurt him," Mike snapped. "He's got nothing to do with this."

"Actually, he does," Peter's mother said. "The only reason you're alive right now, is you both know where my son and daughter are, and you're going to tell us."

"Now, what makes you think we'd do that?" Micky asked.

"Let me guess, if we don't, you'll kill us?" Mike added. "Now, why should I see any incentive in telling you anything, when dear old daddy here wants me dead anyway."

"I'm not much of a betting woman," she answered. "But I will bet that you're going to be the one to tell me, because there really isn't a reason to kill your friend over here."

"Of course there is," Micky said. "I'm a witness!"

"You think if the cops could touch us we'd even be here?" she laughed. "Normally, yes, I would kill you. But I'll make you a deal, Mr. Nesmith. You tell me what I want to know, and I let your friend go."

"What, just so you can kill another friend?" Micky asked. "Mike, don't listen to her; they're just going to kill me once you're dead. Then they're gonna kill Peter and Davy."

"Gag him," Peter's mom said irritably.

"Mike's not stupid, lady, he sees right through your lies" Micky said before someone violently shoved a gag in his mouth.

"Now, Mike," she said once Micky was gagged. "I wouldn't lie to you. I promise I will let Micky go. And I will spare your little friend…Davy was it? I don't even know him. And I'll even let my son live. All I want is my daughter to come home."

"Then why did you send a goon to kill her?" Mike asked.

"I didn't send Barty," she said. "My husband did. Once I found out she was carrying my grandchild, I helped my husband see reason and came here to bring her home."

"She's not going to go with you, you know," Mike said.

"I think she will," she answered. "I'm her mother after all."

"There's something I've come to learn over the past several days," Mike said. "Family is what you make it. You can't choose who your blood family is, but you can choose who your real family is. And Peter, Micky, and Davy are my real family. And I'm NOT going to betray them."

"Who says you'd be betraying them? I told you I would spare them."

"Micky's right. I'm not stupid. I know you're a liar."

"You don't even know me."

"I know you're a killer and a thief and a horrible person. That's all I need to know to not believe a single word you say."

"You'd really be willing to sacrifice one friend to save another?" she asked with an odd smile and walking behind Mike. Mike was silent for a moment and just stared at Micky.

"I don't want any of them to die," Mike answered.

"None of them have to," she whispered in his ear and putting her hands on his shoulders as though she were trying to help him relax. It was weird and Micky wanted to scream at her not to touch him. "I give you my word. Micky is paranoid. I have no reason to kill him. I am not afraid of the police. My brother-in-law is a police officer and my uncle is a judge. He can say anything he wants to whoever he wants. No one has been able to touch us before, and one boy isn't going to change that."

"You're forgetting something," Mike answered not taking his eyes off Micky. "My father. He's been in jail once. Micky tells the cops my father killed me, and he goes to jail again. I'm not a betting man either, but I'm willing to bet that he isn't going to let that happen."

"See, that's the benefit of this little arrangement we made. My cousin was his prison guard. They made a deal. Your father is now one of us. Which means our protection now extends to him, too." Mike seemed as though he were considering this. Micky tried to convey to Mike that it wasn't worth it. He tried to silently tell Mike not to say anything. He understood how Mike felt because he'd just forced Peter and Davy to run and leave Mike behind and that was hard enough for Micky.

"I don't know anything," Mike finally said. "Even if I did, I don't trust you." Micky relaxed a little, but Peter's mom got angry.

"What do you mean, you don't know anything?" she asked walking to stand in front of Mike again. "I thought you were all friends?"

"We are, but that doesn't mean I know where they are," Mike answered.

"He's lying," Mike's father said.

"No, I'm not a liar," Mike said. "I really don't know where they are. I crashed my car while you were chasing me and Peter. Banged my head on the steering wheel. Knocked me right out. I've been pretty out of it until now. So, I don't know where they are."

"You were just talking about it with Micky," Mike's dad added.

"Not really," Mike said. "Micky doesn't even know where they are. He told me that we were all here hiding out, but when Davy's mom over there came in waving a gun he told them to run." Mike motioned with his head behind Micky. He turned around to see Davy's mom still passed out cold, but also tied up and gagged.

"They left without you?" Peter's mom asked skeptically. "That doesn't sound like my son."

"He normally wouldn't, but you've all got us kind of backed in between a rock and a hard place," Mike answered. "You weren't leaving him much of a choice."

"We're never getting answers out of either of them this way, Mother," said a very young looking man who up until now hadn't really even moved. Micky realized that this must be Peter's brother, Percy; the one who was supposed to take over the family business.

"Fine," she said backing away from Mike. "Have it your way." Micky's stomach dropped as he considered exactly what Percy's "way" was.

"I think Mike here is telling the truth about not knowing where they are," Percy said taking out a very sharp looking knife. "But I also think that both of them know where Peter _might_ have run off to. So we just have to figure out who's going to talk first." Percy walked over to Micky and placed the knife against his cheek. Micky tensed feeling the cold steel, but instead of cutting him, Percy just cut the gag. Mike had tensed up though, just as much as Micky had.

"Don't hurt him," Mike begged.

"Give me a reason not to," Percy said with a smile. Percy brought the knife back to Micky's cheek and held it there.

"He told you he doesn't know anything," Micky said.

"I know," Percy said. "But I've no doubt you all know each other well enough to know where he might have gone. I also have a suspicion that you would all have agreed to meet up somewhere."

"You think we really had time to work that out?" Micky asked. "I told them to run; they ran. That's it. We have no idea where they went."

"So then we have no reason to keep you alive," Percy said grabbing the back of Micky's hair and pulling his head back so he could bring the knife to Micky's throat.

"Wait!" Mike screamed and Percy stopped, but Micky felt the sharp edge of the knife digging into him slightly. He didn't even want to breathe for fear of puncturing his throat if he moved. "No! Don't!"

"Talk quickly or I might slip," Percy said.

"We have agreed in the past that if something happened to us, we'd meet at this place called 'Silver Dollar'," Mike said hurriedly. "It's a novelty gift shop just outside of town." Percy released his grip on Micky and put the knife back in his pocket. Micky stared at Mike silently thanking him for his quick thinking. He knew that the gift shop had long since closed and had been boarded up. He also knew there was no way Peter would be there. Mike was sending him on a wild goose chase to try and stall for time. Micky only hoped that in that time, they'd figure out a way out of all this. If they didn't, who knew what their captors would do to them once they figured out the ruse.

"You'd better not be lying to me," Percy said. "Barty, you're coming with me to check it out. Tommy, you stay here. In the meantime, these boys look tired. Mother, why don't you help them get a little sleep?"

"It would be my pleasure," she answered. She walked over to a table and took a small box out of a bag sitting on it. Micky thought he knew what was coming. If they were put to sleep, they couldn't work on a plan to escape.

"We really aren't sleepy," Mike said also apparently coming to the same conclusion.

"Really, I just slept," Micky said. "We're good."

"Don't be silly, boys," Peter's mother said pulling two small needles out of the box. "If you're awake, you'll be tempted to escape. And I can't have that." She walked over to Mike first and stuck the needle in Mike's neck first. Mike tried to fight it, but couldn't due to his restraints. He immediately began to look very drowsy. She walked over to Micky next and stuck the second needle in Micky's neck. The liquid felt very cold and after a second or two, he felt very drowsy too. He tried to fight off the feeling of being that tired and tried to focus on various other things in the room. Barty and two other men left with Percy. Mike's dad and Peter's mom stayed behind and made themselves comfortable in a chair, waiting for the two boys to fall asleep. And the other man Percy had spoken to was grumbling in the corner: Tommy. Micky remembered that as being the name of the man who had killed Peter's best friend and whom Patty was betrothed to. Mike was fighting off the oncoming sleep, too, but it was inevitable. It took about 5 minutes for the boys to lose the fight and pass out.

* * *

Peter grew more and more worried as they drove further and further on. There wasn't really a way he could jump out of a moving vehicle. He'd done it before when he and Mike had wrecked earlier, but at least then he'd landed on sand. Even then, the sand had scratched him up. He could still feel a slight burning in his cheek and on his arm from it. But this time, jumping would mean hitting pavement which surely would hurt a lot more than the sand. That may have been worth it to Peter, if he were alone. But he wasn't. If he jumped and tried to run, they very likely would shoot Davy, and Peter just couldn't let that happen.

When they finally pulled up to a hotel parking lot, Micky's parents got out of the car. His father pulled his gun back out of its holster and motioned for Peter to get out. Micky's mother did the same with Davy. Then they were guided at gunpoint to a room. The room itself looked just as seedy as the hotel had outside. Peter could try screaming for help, but based on the surroundings, he doubted anyone would care. This looked like one of those crash motels where drunks slept it off, men would meet up with a certain type of woman, and others still would buy and use illegal products. No one here would help them and by screaming, they very well could just get shot for the disobedience. So Peter and Davy kept quite while they were guided into the trashy motel room.

"Sit in those chairs," Micky's dad barked. Both chairs looked absolutely disgusting and near destroyed, but Peter sat down anyway. Davy hesitated a little and received a shove from Micky's mom.

"We aren't going to tell you anything," Peter said defiantly.

"Oh, yes you are, blondie," Micky's dad said.

"Let me guess," Davy said as Micky's mom tied them both to their respective chairs. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way? Can't you at least be original?"

"Shut up," Micky's mom said smacking Davy over the head.

"Why do you even care?" Peter asked. "It's not like you love either of your kids. Why can't you just leave them alone and let them live their lives in peace?"

"Because then we'd lose our benefits," Micky's mom answered. "And no one would be around to clean my house."

"Get a maid," Davy muttered.

"We had one," Micky's dad answered.

"No, you had a slave," Davy spat back. "There's a difference. Maids are paid."

"We gave her free room and board, clothing, and food," Micky's mother said.

"Is that why she was stealing bread?" Peter scoffed. "Cause you gave her food?" Peter received another smack across the face. He'd been hanging around Micky too long and was starting to pick up on his snarky attitude. Peter made a mental note to fix that.

"We fed her what she deserved," Micky's dad sneered.

"She deserves a lot more than either of you as parents," Davy spat causing him to get hit, too.

"No wonder you two are friends with George," she said. "He has the same lip. And he got popped a lot for it, too."

"George?" Davy asked.

"Micky's first name," Peter answered. He remembered Micky had let it slip once early on when someone had asked his name. He'd answered 'George' and quickly corrected it. Peter had asked him what that had been about and Micky had quickly said that he preferred to go by his middle name, but never explained why.

"Boy's named for me," Micky's dad answered. "George Michael Dolenz Jr. Though he didn't really take much after me."

"Well, isn't that a relief," Davy said. He got smacked again.

"You don't watch your mouth and I'm gonna gag you," Davy's mom said.

"You do that, Brenda, and he won't be able to tell us where our son is," George said.

"We aren't going to tell you anything anyway," Davy said. "We already told you that."

"Are you sure about that?" George asked.

"Positive," Peter answered. George walked over and smacked Peter across the face with the butt of the gun he was holding. Peter cried out a little in pain and Davy started struggling against the ropes holding him.

"Leave him alone!" Davy yelled.

"Where are my children?" Brenda asked.

"I don't know!" Davy lied. "We split up. I don't know where they went."

"You're lying," Brenda said.

"No, I swear," Davy pled.

"Hit him again," Brenda said to George who obliged with a smile that made Peter sick.

"No!" Davy yelled as Peter felt more pain sear across the side of his face and his vision started to blur. "Stop it! I told you we don't know!"

"And we told you we don't believe you," George said.

"Why don't you believe me? You don't even know me! I'm a very honest person! I hate lying!"

"Because there's no way you'd run off without knowing where your friends were," Brenda answered.

"We would if we were under attack!" Davy tried. "Peter's parents are trying to kill us. So we split up to make it harder to find us. We don't know where they went!"

"That's a load of crap," George said.

"He's telling the truth," Peter said but found it a little difficult to speak because blood was beginning to collect in his mouth. "My parents are mob bosses. I want nothing to do with them, so I left. Now they're trying to kill me for it. We had to separate from Mike and Micky."

"You really expect me to believe that load of crap?" George sneered.

"Yes, because it's true," Davy pled.

"Even if it were true, I doubt you'd split up without a plan to meet somewhere else," Brenda said.

"We didn't have time to work that out," Davy said.

"Yeah right," George said. This time when he smacked Peter, Peter felt pain erupt through his entire head for a split second. He heard Davy shout his name with a voice full of fear and anguish right before everything went dark.


	13. Impossible Choices

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! You are all so kind! Please keep them coming! Let me know if you would like more dreams. Now that I've done one for each, I am thinking of elaborating a little more and doing more dreams for each of them. Let me know what you all think!

Chapter 13: Impossible Choices

_Mike sat on his bed in the new apartment he and his mother had just moved into. They'd only been there three weeks, but he already felt at home. He was used to getting warmed up to a new place quickly. They rarely stayed anywhere longer than 6 months. His mother had explained to him 11 years ago when they first started running that they were trying to run from his father. He didn't remember his father, but his mother kept a picture around so Mike would know what he looked like in case he ever saw him so he could run the other way. His mother usually found a job as a waitress and always came home tired because she usually had to pull double shifts just to make enough money to support them. He'd hated it at first, but by now he was used to it. And he understood that she was doing it to keep him safe. He didn't remember having a little brother, but his mother kept a picture of him, too. She always kept it in her pocket and she would look at it during the night and cry. _

_Tonight was no exception. He heard the familiar sounds of his mother sobbing and got up out of bed. He walked out into the kitchen and stood in the doorway for a second. Sure enough, his mother was sitting at the kitchen table holding the picture of his baby brother and crying. Mike walked over to his mother and she stopped crying when she saw him. She always tried to hide her misery from him not wanting him to suffer like she did. She had said she wanted him to just be a happy normal boy, or at least as much as he could be. But he loved his mother and she tried so hard to keep him happy. He wanted to do the same for her. He walked over and she wiped the tears from her eyes. _

"_Michael, sweetie, go back to bed," she said. _

"_I'm ok, Mom," he said. "I just wanted to tell you how much I love you." Mike's mom smiled when he said it. He walked over and gave her a kiss and a hug. _

"_Thank you, Michael," she said. "I love you, too."_

"_Did you have a good day at work?" Mike asked trying to take her mind off things. _

"_I did," she answered with a smile. She pulled some money out of her purse and walked over to hide it in the icebox. "I made a lot of money today and I bought you something."_

"_You didn't have to do that, Mom," Mike said. "You work hard for that money."_

"_Nonsense," she said pulling something out of her purse. It was a green wool hat that he'd seen in the mall the other day and said he'd wanted. "It wasn't that much money, anyway." She placed it on his head, but since it was a little big, it hung over his eyes. His mother giggled a little and Mike smiled. _

"_I love it!" he said. _

"_I think it's a little big," she said. "I can get a smaller size tomorrow."_

"_I can grow into it," he said. _

"_I think it'll wear out before then," she said. "We'll go to the mall tomorrow. I even have a little extra money for some ice cream."_

"_Really?" Mike said getting a little excited. Ice cream was a treat for them because they didn't have a lot of money. "Ok then!" _

"_How are you doing with your schoolwork, sweetie?" she asked. Mike sat in a chair opposite her and started to talk to her, happy that she finally had something else to think about; and happy that he had news to report that would make her proud of him. _

"_I got an A on my math test!" Mike said excitedly. _

"_That's wonderful!" she answered her face lighting up. Mike really enjoyed seeing her like this and it was a rather rare occurrence, so he pushed on._

"_Yeah, it's the one I was struggling with a week ago," Mike went on. He was usually always struggling because he was usually behind due to the fact they moved around so much. And he couldn't ever really ask his mother for help because they rarely even got to have conversations like this. "I asked Mr. Williams next door to help me. He showed me exactly what to do and it finally made sense. He also helped me with my history, but I only got a B on that test."_

"_A B is still a really good grade," his mother said. Mr. Williams was their neighbor and a very kind man. He was a professor at the college nearby and had seen Mike and his mother move in. Mike had dropped a box of his school stuff and Mr. Williams had helped pick it up, but he'd also seen Mike's grades. He'd asked Mike about it the next day and Mike had explained that they moved so much he was always behind and didn't understand the material. It was then that Mr. Williams had told him he could come over any time he wanted to get help with homework and anything else. _

"_I should have gotten an A," Mike said. "I missed an obvious question. Made a dumb mistake."_

"_There's no dumb mistakes, Michael," she said. "It's all just learning experiences. You won't make that mistake next time. I'm very proud of you." _

"_Thanks, mommy," Mike said. She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the head. This was the happiest Mike had been in a long time. He was able to make his mother happy, which made him happy. He didn't think anything could ruin this moment. But a loud pounding on the door told him how truly wrong he was. Before his mother could open the door, it burst open breaking the hinges. Mike froze, his blood running cold when he saw a man holding a gun and pointing it at his mother. He recognized the man from the picture his mother had of his father. _

"_Marie," the man said. His mother had frozen in fear when he'd burst in. "I knew I'd find you."_

"_How did you find me?" she asked terrified. _

"_A few bribes here and there," he said. "You think you can just take my son away from me, change your name and just leave without paying for it?"_

"_Vern, you killed our son," she said. "What was I supposed to do, let you kill our other son?"_

"_That doesn't matter anymore," his father said. "Just come back home and we can go back to being a happy family."_

"_Happy?" Mike sputtered without thinking. "You think we would be happy with you? Not a chance in hell!" _

"_Hush," his mother said turning to grab him. "Michael, listen to me, I want you to-" but she was cut off by his father grabbing her and pulling her away from him. _

"_Shut up!" he barked. "What have you been teaching this boy? He used to be such a good, quiet little boy."_

"_Leave her alone!" Mike yelled as his father kicked his mother. "Stop hurting her!"_

"_I'll deal with you later," his father said. _

"_Michael, run!" his mother yelled. _

"_No," Mike answered. He couldn't leave his mother alone with his father. _

"_I told you to shut up," his father barked. "Now get your things together. You're coming home with me."_

"_I told you we aren't going anywhere with you!" Mike yelled. _

"_Michael, please," his mother pled. His father turned and smacked Mike across the face; hard. Mike was knocked to the ground and held his face in pain and shock. _

"_You need to learn to respect your elders, boy!" his father barked. _

"_Don't hurt him," his mother begged. "I'm sorry, Vern. Please, just don't hurt him."_

"_I'll do with him whatever I please," his father answered. "You're my wife, which means you do what I tell you to. He's my son, which means he does what I tell him to. Now, get your shit together and come home!"_

"_No," she said pushing herself up. "I won't let you hurt my son. You can do whatever you want to me, but you WILL leave my son alone."_

"_How dare you," his father hissed. _

"_Michael, please, go," his mother begged again. But Mike couldn't move. He was staring at the gun as his father raised it and pointed it as his mother again. Time seemed to move in slow motion. He heard the sound of the gunshot ring through his ears and saw his mother fall to the ground, but he still couldn't move. Shock had completely overtaken his body. He didn't make a move until he realized his father had now turned on him. He saw down the barrel of the gun, and instinct took over making him run. He didn't know what he was doing or where he was going, but he ran. _

"_Get back here!" his father yelled as Mike ran from the kitchen to the hallway. He heard another shot and felt the bullet whiz past his head. He fell to the ground and held as still as possible. It was dark in the hallway, so he hoped with every fiber in his body that his father would think that he was dead. He heard the footsteps as his father walked toward him and Mike held his breath so as to seem like he wasn't breathing. His father didn't get that close to him before Mike heard the sound of footsteps retreating. A second later, he heard more footsteps coming into the apartment. He continued to pretend to be dead not knowing who this newcomer was. _

"_Michael?" said a familiar and comforting voice. "Michael, where are you?" Mike didn't say anything, but he sat up and looked at Mr. Williams down the hallway. The kind neighbor had come in and seen his mother and feared the worst for him. When Mr. Williams saw Mike, he breathed a sigh of relief and ran towards him. He knelt down next to Mike and wrapped his arms around him. "What happened here, Michael? Are you hurt?" _

"_No," Mike answered shakily. His eyes now came to rest on his mother in the kitchen. A very large pool of blood collected underneath her and she lay completely motionless. "Mom?"_

"_Michael, son, I need you to tell me what happened," Mr. Williams prompted trying to distract Mike and trying to pull his face away from the vision of his mother. But Mike didn't answer him. He couldn't. _

"_Mom?" Mike repeated now trying to get up and go help his mother. Mr. Williams grabbed him and lifted Mike off the ground. _

"_You shouldn't see this," Mr. Williams carried Mike out of the apartment and into the hallway. Mike started fighting once they'd reached the hallway, refusing to leave his mother there. _

"_Mom!" he yelled. _

"_Michael, I'm so sorry, but you can't do anything now," Mr. Williams said carrying the struggling boy into his own apartment. "I've called the police and they're on their way. I know you want to help her, but…Michael, I'm afraid she's gone." Mike felt tears welling up in his eyes. He refused to believe it. _

"_No," Mike breathed. _

"_I'm sorry, Michael," Mr. Williams repeated and continued to hold onto Mike. "The only thing you can do for her now is tell us what happened. Who did this?" _

"_My father," Mike said as he heard sirens outside._

Mike woke up with a sharp pain at the back of his head. He realized someone had hit him on the back of the head and he snapped his eyes open as they did it again. Once they realized he was awake, they stopped hitting him. He still felt very groggy due to the drugs they'd given him to make him sleep, but he tried to ignore that as he remembered exactly what was going on. He quickly looked up to see Micky still tied to a chair across from him. He was gagged again and he had blood coagulated on the side of his face, but he'd had that before. Mike had assumed he'd cut his head open a little when he'd fallen before. He was still asleep and Percy, who'd smacked Mike awake, now moved to Micky. It took two smacks to wake Micky up.

"You two lied to me," Percy said. "No one was there."

"Actually, Micky didn't say anything to you at all," Mike spat. "I'm the one who told you to go to that shop."

"So you'll shoulder this on your own?" Percy sneered.

"If I have to," Mike answered. "But I didn't lie to you. I simply told you that's where we'd agreed to meet in the past. Either you didn't wait long enough, or Peter decided to go somewhere else."

"Or you lied to me to save your friend," Percy sneered.

"I just told you I didn't," Mike said.

"And what if I don't believe you?" Percy asked.

"That's not really my problem, now is it?" Mike spat.

"Oh, but it is," Percy said. "Every time you send me somewhere and it ends up being a dead end, it will be your problem."

"You can't kill Micky or me," Mike pointed out. "You kill one of us; you lose your bargaining chip."

"I'm well aware of that," Percy said. "But who said anything about killing you?" Percy pulled the knife he'd used earlier out of his pocket and in one quick movement, sliced a gash across Micky's arm. Micky screamed in pain behind his gag and Mike felt his stomach knot up. Guilt overwhelmed him and he pulled against the ropes tying him to the chair even though he knew nothing would happen. It had been his idea to send them on a wild goose chase and Micky was the one paying for it.

"Don't hurt him!" Mike yelled even though he knew that again, it wouldn't accomplish anything. "He didn't do anything! I did! Take it out on me, not him!"

"Where would the incentive be in that?" Percy sneered. Mike looked in Micky's eyes and his heart broke when he saw how much pain was there. But he also saw determination. He could almost hear what Micky was saying, even though Micky couldn't speak behind the gag. Micky was telling Mike not to worry about him. That they had to worry about Peter and Davy and Marcy and Patty. Mike felt torn. Micky was being hurt right in front of his eyes, but if he gave up his friends, they would be hurt in the future. He didn't know what to do anymore.

"I told you I don't know where they went," Mike said. "I can't help you."

"You better think hard then," Percy said. "Where would Peter go?" Mike thought, but really didn't know where Peter would go.

"I really don't know," Mike said.

"Try harder," Percy said. Micky tried to say something but was muffled behind his gag.

"I-don't-know," Mike said forcefully.

"Well, that doesn't bode well for Micky here, does it," Percy said.

"Please don't hurt him," Mike pled as Percy played with the knife in between his fingers. "It's not his fault."

"I really don't care whose fault it is," Percy answered. "All I care about is finding my brother and sister. Now, you can either help me with that, or you can watch your friend suffer."

"You can't make me choose like that," Mike said.

"I can and I am," Percy answered. "And I warn you, I'm not a very patient person. Now's your chance to redeem yourself, Mike."

"Redeem myself?" Mike asked.

"For not saving your mother."

"Don't you dare bring her into this, you sick, twisted-"

"Watch your mouth," Mike's father said stepping out from behind him and smacking him across the face. "You really need to learn better manners."

"Why, when you're just going to kill me when this is all over," Mike spat tasting a little blood in his mouth.

"It doesn't matter," Percy said. "I've been called worse by better. Now, are you going to talk or do I have to hurt your friend again?" Mike felt trapped. If he made something up again, he'd only be hurting Micky again, but if he stayed silent, Micky would get hurt too. Either way, Mike and Micky were screwed. He doubted they'd be able to think of an escape plan if he sent them somewhere again because they'd probably be knocked out again, but it might give someone else time to come help them. If Micky was going to be hurt no matter what Mike did, the least he could do was buy more time. He looked at Micky again and still saw pain and determination there. Micky nodded to him letting him know it was ok.

"There are a few places he could go," Mike whispered.

"I'm listening," Percy said.

"There's an Italian restaurant on 5th Street," Mike said coming up with anything he could think of where he knew Peter and Davy wouldn't have gone. He hoped that they would look suspicious enough in public places that someone would call the police and hopefully they would rescue Mike and Micky. Although he wasn't banking on that since Peter's family had friends in the police department. "There's also a Mexican restaurant on Main Street."

"Why would he go to those places?" Percy asked slightly doubtful.

"We've played gigs there before," Mike said. This was true, but that didn't mean Peter would think they were safe. "He said he really liked the food there and he made friends with some of the employees." This, however, was a lie.

"I don't intend to run around on a fool's errand again," Percy said. "This time, you are both going with me. And you better not be lying to me again." Percy motioned to a few men standing nearby. "Take them to the van." The men nodded and moved to Mike and Micky. They untied Mike from the chair, but his hands were still tied behind his back. They also untied Micky from the chair. They lifted both and pushed them out of the warehouse. As soon as Mike stood up, he felt dizzy and almost fell. Despite his hands being tied, Micky rushed behind Mike to try and catch him.

"What's the matter?" Peter's mother asked. "Why can't you walk?"

"I have a concussion, lady!" Mike barked. "What do you think is the matter with me?!"

"Watch your attitude," Mike's dad said pushing him. Mike fell to the ground and his head bounced a little off the ground. Pain shot through his head and his vision blurred, but he was able to force himself to stay conscious. He heard Micky yelling something behind his gag.

"Vern!" Percy barked. "Don't do that! If you kill him or incapacitate him, we won't be able to find my brother. Stay away from him."

"Tommy, Timothy, carry him to the van," Peter's mother said. "I don't want him falling and hitting his head again." Mike felt two men grab him rather roughly and lift him by his feet and arms. They carried him out of the warehouse and to a very large van that was waiting for them. The van was empty in the back except for a few seats. They set Mike down in one of those seats and motioned for Micky to sit in another. Mike felt really dizzy and rested his head against the side of the van.

"Mom, get Uncle Ryan in here with us," Percy said. "I want him to take a look at Mike and make sure his injuries aren't life threatening. I need them both alive until we find Peter and something tells me that's going to take a while."

"Of course," Peter's mother answered and walked off. Moments later another man entered and the doors to the van shut. Mike sat across from Micky; Percy sat next to Mike and Tommy and Timothy, the two men who carried him to the van, sat next to Micky. Peter's mother moved up front to be with the driver and Mike assumed the others followed them in other vehicles he'd seen parked outside.

"Michael, this is Ryan Schillinger," Percy said. "He's my uncle and he's a doctor. He's going to make sure you're alright."

"What about Micky?" Mike asked. "He hit his head, too."

"He doesn't appear to be as ill as you are," Percy answered. "My concern is for you."

"I really don't need your concern," Mike said icily. He heard Micky try and speak behind his gag again, as though urging Mike to just let the doctor look at him. He let the doctor look him over to appease Micky more than anything else. But he spent the whole time thinking of what to do next. Because they were leaving the warehouse, the chances of them being rescued dramatically decreased. They were on the move now making it harder to find them, which wasn't a good thing and Mike had to figure out how to get them out of this. The pain and throbbing he felt in his head made concentrating very difficult, however and a lot of thoughts never really mad full connections in his head.


	14. Freedom for Some

Author's Note: This chapter is for my good friend PlushChrome who wanted to read a little more about Peter. Hope you like it, Plushie!

Chapter 14: Freedom for Some

_Peter laid in bed, a boy barely 12 years old, but more a man than he knew. He had barely fallen asleep when he heard a crashing noise. Curiosity taking hold, he crawled out of bed and crept down the long hallway of his home. He passed his sisters bedroom and then his brothers. He reached his parent's bedroom, but saw nothing amiss. Then he heard the sound again; it was coming from downstairs. He crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the one that squeaked. He didn't see anything in the living room amiss, but the door to his father's den was open. Peter knew what that meant, but still his curiosity got the better of him and pushed him towards the den. Peering through the crack, he saw a man gagged and tied to a chair. The man's eye was swollen shut and there was blood coming from his nose and mouth. His father crossed in front of the door, and Peter saw he was holding a bloody baseball bat. _

"_You've crossed me, O'Reilly," his father sneered. _

"_Please," the man begged, sputtering blood onto the floor. "I didn't. You have to believe me."_

"_We'd love to," said the voice of Peter's mother from somewhere else inside the room. "But the facts don't support that. You were told to deliver fifty thousand dollars; we only got a little over forty five. Now what kind of conclusion are we supposed to make about that?"_

"_Maybe the guy I picked it up from skimmed you?" O'Reilly said. _

"_Doubtful since he's my uncle," Peter's dad sneered. _

"_Really, Christine, Toby, why would I steal from you?" O'Reilly begged. "You pay me so well already!"_

"_Not enough to buy that nice thunderbird you picked up yesterday," Peter's dad said. _

"_That was a gift, Toby," O'Reilly begged. "You know how I've always loved those cars!"_

"_A gift?" Peter's mother asked. "Who gave it to you?"_

"_My wife," O'Reilly answered. "She gave it to me for our anniversary. Please, Christine, you have to believe me."_

"_The only way I would believe your wife could ever give you a car like that is if she were sleeping with the dealer," Toby laughed. _

"_You know, I wouldn't be surprised," Christine laughed. "She does seem the type, doesn't she?"_

"_No," O'Reilly begged. "She wouldn't do that."_

"_Well, it's either that, or you skimmed money off us," Toby said. "Now, I'm inclined to believe you're a thief."_

"_If you come clean, we won't kill you," Christine said. "We'll just take your nice, shiny new car as payment."_

"_Really?" O'Reilly asked. _

"_Yes," Christine answered. "We value honesty. At least with us."_

"_I…I…I" O'Reilly stuttered. Peter didn't know the guy, but even he had to admit, the guy seemed guilty of having stolen the money. _

"_Come on, O'Reilly," Toby said. "I haven't got all night."_

"_Ok, I took it," O'Reilly said. "I'm really sorry. I'll never do it again." _

"_You're right," Toby said. "You won't." Peter saw his father swing the bat with both hands and it made contact with the man's head with a sickening pop. The bat snapped and O'Reilly's head now hung at an odd angle. Peter gasped in fright and fell backwards. He was just as horrified when his father yanked open the door to his office and looked down at Peter. _

"_What are you doing, Peter?" Christine asked coming into the doorway. _

"_I…" Peter stuttered. "I heard a noise."_

"_So you come poking your head in affairs it shouldn't belong?" Toby asked. _

"_No," Peter mumbled. "I was just curious. I didn't mean-"_

"_Now, Toby, he needs to see these things if he's going to take over for you," Christine said. "It'll be good for him. He's far too soft right now."_

"_You're right, he is," Toby said kicking Peter in the stomach. "But he also needs to learn not to stick his nose in other people's business." _

"_I'm sorry," Peter wheezed; the wind had been knocked out of him with his father's kick. He would have said he wouldn't do it again, but he really didn't think it was a good idea seeing as how O'Reilly had just said the same thing as his last words. _

"_Toby," Christine cautioned as his father kicked him again. _

"_No, Christine," Toby answered. "The boy needs it. He needs discipline. A few bruises may just be what he needs to become a man." Peter didn't say anything else as his father continued his onslaught. He got kicked in the stomach 3 more times and in the buttocks twice. Then his father picked him up very forcefully and gripped his arm very tightly. Peter coughed a little and tasted a little blood in his mouth. _

"_Toby, that's enough," Christine said. _

"_Go," Toby said throwing Peter toward the bottom of the staircase. "Back to bed with you, and don't ever let me catch you spying on me again. Got that?"_

"_Yes, sir," Peter mumbled. Toby crossed over to him and smacked Peter across the face. _

"_What?" Toby said. "Speak up; I didn't hear you!"_

"_Yes, sir," Peter said more loudly and holding his face. Peter ran up the stairs and to his bedroom. He thought he heard the door of his sister's room close as he passed it, but dare not say anything. He didn't want her to go through what he just had. He crossed into his room and then to his bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw there was now blood coming from his nose. He carefully cleaned his face and winced in pain as he breathed. He wasn't sure if his father's kicks had broken any ribs, but it felt like it. He'd been beaten like this before, however, and knew that his mother would have his doctor uncle look at him the next morning to make sure there wasn't permanent damage. In the meantime, he got a towel and wet it with cold water to place over his bruises as he went to bed. He knew if he even fell asleep his dreams that night would be filled with the face of the dead man downstairs, but he was also filled with anger. His father said he was trying to make him become a man. Peter never saw his father as a man and refused to end up like him. What he didn't know out of pure humility was that he was at the age of 12, Peter was already a far better man than his father ever would be. _

Peter woke with his head hurting. Once again he tasted blood in his mouth, but this time, he couldn't move; he was tied to a chair. Remembering what had happened, he snapped awake and looked around. The light in the room was very dim, so it didn't hurt his eyes, but the sudden movement did. He felt dizzy and wanted to throw up, but swallowed it back down. He looked around and saw Davy tied to the chair next to him still. His friend's eyes brightened when he realized Peter was awake.

"Peter!" Davy exclaimed and his voice cut through Peter's brain like a knife. "You're ok! I was scared."

"I'm ok, Davy," Peter said. "Please just don't talk so loudly. It hurts."

"Sorry," Davy said lowering his voice to a tolerable level. "I should have realized that. You have some blood coming out of your ear."

"It's ok, Davy," Peter repeated. "Are you ok?"

"Fine," Davy said. "They left a little bit after you passed out. Not sure when they're coming back, but I tried untying myself. It didn't work. I tried yelling, but that didn't work either."

"Yeah, I don't think the patrons of this place really care that much," Peter mumbled.

"I didn't tell them anything," Davy said.

"Good," Peter answered.

"I came close," Davy admitted. "I just didn't know what to do. They were hurting you and I just didn't know what to do. I thought maybe if they showed up at the warehouse, it would cause enough confusion and commotion and Mike and Micky could escape."

"It's ok, Davy," Peter said smiling at his friend.

"But then I realized we don't even know if they're alive," Davy said quietly ignoring Peter.

"They're alive, Davy," Peter said firmly. "They have to be."

"Just because you want something to be true, doesn't mean it is," Davy said. "You heard two shots, just like I did."

"I know, but they have to keep them alive long enough to interrogate them about me, remember?" Peter said. "Micky and Mike wouldn't give us up so easily. I have enough faith in that. That's keeping them alive."

"Yeah, but do you think they're torturing them?"

"I hate to say it, but probably."

"We never should have left them behind. Why did we just abandon them like that?"

"They made us, Davy. Besides, if we had stayed behind, we would have been there when my family arrived, and then there'd be no need to keep them alive. My family would have just killed all of you right along with me."

"You're right," Davy said looking at him with watery eyes. "But I don't have to like it, do I?"

"No," Peter said offering another smile. "I don't like it either." Peter felt a sharp cut from the chair as he wiggled to get more comfortable. The chair was breaking apart after the beating he took; and the chair was made of metal. "Hey, Davy! I have an idea! My chair is breaking thanks to Micky's dad and it's metal and sharp where it's coming apart. If we can maneuver to get the metal towards your hands, maybe we can cut the rope!"

"It's sharp?" Davy echoed. "Is it hurting you?"

"A little, but that doesn't matter! We can use it to free us!" Peter didn't wait for Davy's response; he knew his friend was more concerned for his safety than their freedom, but freedom meant more safety than staying here. Peter wrapped his feet around the legs of the chair and began to hope in place, turning so that his back was to Davy. With only a moment's hesitation, Davy did the same thing. Then they carefully hopped closer to each other so Davy could get to the metal. Every hop felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to Peter's brain, but he knew he had to push past it. This was their only chance at freedom.

Once they were close enough, Peter felt Davy start rubbing the ropes binding him against the chair. After a few minutes that seemed like hours, Davy's hands were free. Then he started wiggling around and moving his hands trying to get out of the ropes tying his body to the chair. It took another couple of minutes of wrestling, but Davy was finally free. He jumped out of the chair and immediately pounced on Peter's bindings. They had to work quickly because they had no idea when Micky's parents were going to return. At last, Peter was freed from the ropes as well.

"Davy, look around for a weapon or something," Peter instructed. He jumped up, but immediately regretted it. His head pulsed with pain and he almost fell over. Davy caught him and set him down on the bed.

"Ok, but are you going to be ok?" Davy answered.

"Fine," Peter mumbled.

"Why am I looking for a weapon?" Davy asked. "Shouldn't we just leave?"

"Yes, but we need a way to defend ourselves if they chase us," Peter answered.

"Good point," Davy muttered and started frantically searching. It didn't take him very long; on the dresser, one of Micky's parents had left their gun. Davy looked at it skeptically, obviously not wanting to have to use such a deadly weapon.

"Davy, you have to take it," Peter said. "It's the only way to save Micky and Mike. We have to get out of here alive if we're going to help them."

"Right," Davy said and finally grabbed the gun. Once he shoved it in his waistband, he moved to help Peter walk, as Peter was now finding it difficult to even stand. "Just take it easy, Pete. One step at a time." They made it out the door of the hotel room just in time to see the car driven by Micky's parents pulling into the parking lot.

"Run!" Peter said as Micky's dad revved the engine. Peter knew he had every desire to run them down. Gathering every ounce of strength he had, he and Davy ran as fast as they could toward the main street. Davy pulled the gun out of his waistband and fired a few shots behind them. One of the shots made contact with the windshield shattering it and causing Micky's dad to lose control. He crashed into a side wall. Peter knew this would only slow them down a little, however, so he had to think of something else, and fast.

"Man, we could really use a car right about now!" Davy exclaimed.

"Right," Peter agreed. He grabbed the back of Davy's shirt and pulled him into the parking lot of a grocery store. Then he looked around at each of the cars in turn. He found one he was familiar with and ran over to it. His vision at this point was coming and going, and he felt like throwing up, but he forced himself to keep fighting it. He grabbed a rock off the ground and smashed the back passenger window out on the car.

"What are you doing!?" Davy exclaimed.

"Putting something my parents taught me to good use," Peter answered reaching in to unlock the door. "Something I thought I'd never have to do."

"You're stealing a car?!"

"What other choice do we have?! I'll bring it back!"

"Yeah, but…" Davy glanced behind him and saw that Micky's dad had extricated himself from the wall and was now trying to steer their car towards Davy and Peter. "Ok, but hurry!" Peter was already reaching inside to unlock the driver's side of the car. Once the driver's door was open, he motioned for Davy to sit in the driver's seat while he sat in the passenger. He bent down and pulled out a few wires under the steering wheel. With his head as scrambled as it was, he was surprised he still remembered how to do this. He heard Davy whispering "hurry" over and over again. He finally connected the right wires and the car started up. Davy slammed his foot on the accelerator and the car took off with a jolt.

"Give me the gun," Peter said. Davy handed the gun over and Peter leaned out the window carefully taking aim. Another thing his father taught him had been put to good use. He never told the others that he actually knew how to use a gun pretty well, but the few times they'd had to handle them, he'd done the best. Like the time in Mexico, he was the only one who could twirl it around his hand and Mike and Micky had been surprised and wondered how he'd done that.

The bullet hit its mark and blew out the tire of the Dolenz car chasing them. The car swerved and crashed into another wall. Davy gave a cheer of triumph as Peter sat back down in the car. He leaned his head back against the headrest and could hear Davy congratulating him on being such a great shot, but he barely heard it. It felt like his legs were on fire, his stomach was twisting in knots, and an entire demolition crew was going to work inside his head.

* * *

Micky was still very drowsy from the drugs they'd given him, but seeing Mike be pushed around and having his head bounce off the ground pushed him into full alertness. He'd tried to keep Mike from falling, or at least give him a cushion so he didn't keep knocking his head around. That was the last thing he needed. He felt relieved though when Percy had told Mike a doctor would be looking to make sure his injuries weren't too bad.

As the doctor asked Mike several questions and ran over various cognitive and reflex tests, Micky's mind turned to escape. There were too many people back here to overpower, especially since he was still tied up. Tommy and Timothy looked bulky and intimidating anyway, plus Percy had that knife still. And Micky didn't dare attempt a run for it with Mike in the condition he was in. Especially making a run for it from a moving vehicle. He hoped when they stopped that enough men would get out to even the odds a little. Not that he was sure what that was; both Mike and Micky were both a little worse for wear. Micky's arm throbbed from where Percy had cut it and his leg still hurt from where his father had cut him. Not to mention the headache he had from the fall and the drugs he was given.

"He's got a pretty bad concussion," Doctor Schillinger said when he'd finished inspecting Mike. "I can give him some medication to reduce the swelling, but he also needs to rest if you want him to live. He may need surgery. I can't tell without an actual picture of his brain." Micky's stomach dropped at the word surgery. Mike needed a hospital and bad. The only reason they hadn't taken him right after the accident was because he would have been a sitting duck there.

"How long does he have?" Percy asked.

"I can't tell without an image of his brain, Percy," Doctor Schillinger said. "Tommy, hand me that bag." Tommy did as instructed and Doctor Schillinger took out a needle and a small bottle. He put the needle in the bottle and withdrew some of the liquid in it. "I'll need his arm to get a clear vein. It has to go in the blood stream."

"Fine," Percy said. "Tommy, Timothy, hold him down." Percy moved to untie Mike once he felt Mike was sufficiently restrained by the other two. He now held Mike's arm out and rolled up his sleeve so the doctor could find a vein. He held tightly onto Mike's forearm and upper arm as he spoke to Mike now. "Make a move, and we break your arm, got it?"

"Of course you will," Mike said. Micky was alarmed at just how slurred his speech was. He had to figure something out soon or Mike would die. Mike winced, which caused Micky's heart to skip a beat, as the doctor plunged the needle in his arm. Once the medication was given, they tied Mike back up. After a minute or two, they had pulled to a stop.

"This is the Italian Restaurant," Peter's mother said looking back from up front.

"Tommy, go check it out," Percy said. "I'll stay back here with the boys. If you see Peter, don't do anything. You come tell me."

"What if he tries to run?" Tommy asked.

"If you're inconspicuous about it, he won't see you, and he won't run, idiot," Percy said. "Go!"

"Can't believe I'm taking orders from a kid," Micky heard Tommy mumble on his way out the back. Percy rolled his eyes and took his knife out again.

"Now, remember, I told you that he _could_ be here," Mike said as Percy stood up and waited for news from Tommy. "Not that he was. So if he's not here, don't hurt Micky, ok? Just go on to the next place."

"Sure, and if he's not there, we'll go to the next, and the next, and the next," Percy answered sarcastically. "Do you take me for a fool? I'm not running all over town while you stall for time. For every place we go to without sign of Peter, your friend here suffers. I already told you that. So you better think carefully before sending me on another fool's errand. I'll give you an out right now."

"What are you going to do to Peter if you catch him?" Mike asked.

"I want to kill him," Percy answered very matter-of-factly. "Mom wants him alive. Thinks she can change him."

"She can't," Mike said. "Peter would rather die than take part in anything like this."

"Of course she can't fix him," Percy laughed. "He's broken beyond repair."

"You're the only broken ones," Mike snapped defiantly. "Peter is an amazing person who deserves so much better than you for a family. Why do you do this? Why do you take fun in hurting other people?"

"I give people what they deserve," Percy said.

"Micky deserves to be cut up?" Mike asked.

"Yes, you both hid my brother from me. You corrupted him further than he already was."

"Corrupted!?"

"He turned his back on his family. You don't do that. Your family is everything."

"I beg to differ. Seeing as how your about to let my father kill me, I don't think you agree with that either."

"Sure I do, but I also believe in punishment. You abandoned him. You and your mother. She got what she deserved, and now you will, too." Mike's face contorted in rage again and he lurched forward. His head connected with Percy stomach knocking him out of the van and onto the ground. Micky tried yelling at Mike to stop; he was only making things worse for himself, but none of his words made sense behind the gag. He wasn't sure Mike would have listened anyway.

"I told you to leave my mother alone!" Mike yelled. Timothy jumped up and pushed Mike back down while Doctor Schillinger helped Percy get back up.

"That was a very stupid move," Percy sneered. His voice was dripping with rage. "Not only did you hurt your head even more, but now you've made me really mad." Micky thought for a moment that Percy was going to strike at Mike as he tightened his grip around the knife, but seemed to change his mind as he smiled a very dark, sinister smile. Micky didn't even have time to move out of the way as Percy turned on him and plunged the knife into his shoulder. Pain erupted in Micky's shoulder and he screamed against his gag.

"Micky!" Mike yelled and tried to get up again, but was held down by Timothy. "No! Micky, I'm so sorry!" Micky tried to ignore the pain and give Mike a look telling him he was ok, but he couldn't. The whole blade was stuck in his shoulder; buried to the hilt. He blinked back tears of pain and tried to turn away from Mike so he wouldn't see how much pain he was in. "You really are a sick, twisted devil," Mike continued talking to Percy now.

"You really should learn to control your temper more," Percy spat back.

"Me!? You're the one who just stabbed my friend for something _I_ did!"

"Taught you not to make me angry, now didn't it."

"He's not here," Tommy said coming up to the van interrupting them. "What happened?"

"Never mind that," Percy answered. "You're absolutely sure Peter isn't there?"

"Owner said he hasn't seen him since they performed there over a year ago," Tommy answered. "Barely even remembered him."

"Well, then, it would seem you lied to me, Michael," Percy said.

"You already hurt him," Mike said. "You don't have to do it again."

"Oh, but I do," Percy answered. "I hurt him because you attacked me. Now I'm going to hurt him because you lied to me. You brought this on yourself, Michael. You have no one to blame but yourself. I gave you an out. I gave you a chance to admit you lied to me, and you didn't. Now you have to pay for that." Percy wrapped his hands around the knife in Micky's shoulder and twisted it a little. More pain shot through Micky's body and he tried not to scream again, knowing it would only make Mike feel worse.

"No, please, I'm begging you," Mike said nearly sobbing. "Don't hurt him!"

"Too late," Percy said pulling the knife out. "You had your chance. You blew it."

"No, I'm sorry, I lied, but I didn't know what else to do. I really don't know where Peter went. We've never had to establish a safe haven before. I have no idea where to find him. Please, you have to believe me. I lied to you before, but I'm not lying now. I don't know!"

"Well, you better think of something, Michael," Percy said.

"I don't know," Mike pled. "Please."

"Tell you what, Michael, you find him for me and bring him and Patty to me. Once you do that, I'll give you Micky back."

"What?"

"I'm letting you go, Michael," Percy said cutting the ropes that bound Mike. "Find Peter and Patty and bring them to me. I'll be waiting at your house. It's a little after 11 pm now; you have until midnight tomorrow. That's a little over 24 hours. I think that's enough time. If that clock strikes midnight and you aren't there with Peter and Patty though, you'll come home to find your friend dead. And don't try going to the police. We have friends in high places. I hear you went to the cops, and I kill him no matter what. Have I made myself clear?"

"I don't know if he can last 24 hours, Percy," Doctor Schillinger said. "Not with that concussion."

"Well, he's going to have to work fast, then isn't he," Percy said grabbing Mike by the collar and tossing him out of the back of the van. Micky made a move to try and help his friend as well as escape, but Percy whirled on him before he could even get out of his seat. And the pain in his shoulder kept him from moving too much. Timothy closed the doors to the van and Percy gave the order to drive away.


	15. Street Wise

Author's Note: Wow, long chapter, sorry. But I'm fairly certain I can keep you're focus….lol. Enjoy!

Chapter 15: Street Wise

Micky was dragged from the van up to his own house and thrust inside like a rag doll. They weren't really bothering all that much with being gentle with him, even though Micky thought they should have. If he died before the time ran out, Mike wouldn't hand Peter over. Not that Micky thought for a second Mike would _ever_ do anything like that in the first place, but that wasn't the point. If anything, Micky was concerned about what Peter would do when Peter found out what Percy had done. Last time someone had kidnapped Micky when they really wanted Peter, Peter had all too willingly given himself up in exchange. Not that it had worked so well then either, but Micky could only hope that Peter would remember how miserably that had worked and would stay far, far away from the house. But knowing Peter, that wasn't very likely.

When Timothy threw him on the floor, Micky landed forcefully on his wounded shoulder. He cried out behind the gag still in his mouth as a renewed amount of pain rushed through his entire body. He rolled over onto his back and tried desperately not to cry. He refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing just how much pain he was in. He was used to acting like he wasn't in as much pain as he was because of the things his father had done to him when he was a child, but this was unlike anything he experienced as a kid. Sure he'd had several broken bones, bruises, concussions and cuts, but what hurt him more now was the knowledge that Mike was out there somewhere dying and faced with an impossible choice: Peter or Micky. He knew Mike would never make that decision and that he would probably do something really stupid to try and save Micky, which would more than likely end up getting himself killed in the state he was in, but he hoped it never came to that. He also knew he couldn't try and escape, because if he left and Mike showed up or even Peter trying to surrender himself, neither would know where Micky was. And there was no doubt in Micky's mind that Mike didn't have time to scour the city for Micky AND Peter. As much as he hated it, he'd have to stay here until he either figured out a plan to overpower his captors, which was HIGHLY unlikely, or his friends found each other and figured out a way to save him. Which he wasn't even sure he wanted that to happen for risk of them getting killed. Or he'd just wait until he died and pray that his friends would run as far away from all of this as possible and forget about him.

Micky was starting to find it very hard to stay awake. The drugs were still coursing through his system and now he was losing blood on top of that. As he tried to concentrate on the things going on around him to keep himself grounded, his vision started to dim and it became harder and harder to hear. Percy had told his mother to go find a bed to sleep on as it was getting late. He'd decided he'd stay down here with Micky for a few hours before finding another bed for himself and he also wanted Tommy and Timothy to take turns throughout the night watching Micky to make sure he didn't run. Micky almost laughed at this; he was too weak to even stand up on his own right now, let alone try and make a run for it. Mike's dad had stormed in a minute after Micky and the others had arrived demanding to know why Percy had set his son free and Percy carefully explained that Mike would either die on the street or come back with Peter within 24 hours and then he could kill Mike. Micky's stomach clenched at just how callously Percy was talking about Mike dying. After only a few minutes, however, Micky found it impossible to stay awake, even though lying on his arms tied behind his back was extremely uncomfortable.

_Micky, now 14 and having plenty of experience living on the streets, crept through the shadows in an alley taking care not to be seen by anyone. He had already looked in other alleys nearby for food, but had come up short. Sometimes he got really lucky and could open a trash can and find a pizza box with a slice left or a loaf of bread that he could cut the mold off of. But today he hadn't found anything and the only sound that could be heard was his own stomach growling in hunger. There were fleeting moments where he missed being home where at least he could count on food every day, even if it was only once, but he knew the terror of being home was far worse than this. The scar on his hand would always remind him of what awaited him should he ever return. So he pressed on and looked in the last trash can in this alley. It was empty. Groaning, he put the lid back on and resigned himself to using his last resort method of getting food. No matter how much he hated doing it. _

_He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked into the grocery store. He pulled the hood of his jacket down to cover his eyes. He saw that this late at night, there was only one cashier and one other employee stocking shelves which meant this would be fairly easy. He walked down a few aisles and pretended like he was looking for something, but neither employee paid attention to him. Of course they wouldn't; they just wanted to get home. When he reached an aisle with juices on it, he took a little contraption out of the backpack he wore. It was a contraption that he built from scrap parts he found in a trash behind an electronics store; he had several of these for just such an occasion as this. He made sure the employees were still not paying attention to him and wound up the timer to 2 minutes before placing the contraption behind a carton of juice on a high shelf. Then he quickly, but casually walked away. 2 minutes later he heard a pop followed by a crash and splashing noise. The device had worked; it had blown up like a tiny cherry bomb and knocked several boxes of juice onto the floor causing them to spill. _

"_What the-" came the startled reaction of the two employees, just like Micky had planned. While the two employees walked over to the mess to investigate and clean it up, Micky grabbed as many bananas and apples as he could fit in his backpack and then ran over to the bread to shove some of that in his backpack along with some peanut butter from a shelf next to it. Then he carefully made his way out of the store completely unnoticed by the employees. He felt really bad for stealing, but he really wasn't left with much of a choice. On most days he could sit on a street corner and sing a few songs he'd heard on the radio he'd rigged up for some money, but he never really earned a whole lot. People saw him as a kid and assumed he had parents to take care of him. While it was true he had parents, taking care of him was the complete opposite of how he would describe them. So he was forced to steal food sometimes just to survive. Most of his clothes were too small for him or extremely worn and dirty, so once he even had to steal a pair of pants just to stay warm. Creating a distraction for that had been harder, but he'd pulled it off. He always made sure no one ever got hurt from his distractions because they were too small to cause much damage unless you were right next to it, like the ill-fated boxes of juice that had fallen to the floor moments earlier. When he exited the store, a police officer had just pulled up, but Micky ignored him and kept moving. He must have seen something amiss, though, because as Micky rounded the corner to take the alley back, the cop called after him. _

"_Hey, kid!" the officer yelled. "Come here a minute!" Micky didn't listen; instead he took off running. The cop let out a loud curse and started chasing him. Micky jumped up on a stack of boxes and grabbed the top of a fence and, despite how hungry he was, managed to pull himself up and over the fence with relative ease. He landed and continued running, but the cop was able to climb over the fence, too, though a little slower than Micky had. Micky could hear the cop panting and yelling into his radio behind him. "Foot pursuit of a minor matching description of shoplifter seen leaving the Food Stop on Main and 5__th__. Subject wearing black hoodie, backpack and jeans. Approximately 12 to 13 years old; brown hair." _

_Micky groaned knowing that meant he would soon have several cops chasing him. He had to figure out a way to ditch them and fast. One thing about living on the streets, however, meant you knew your way around better than most other people, including the cops. Micky turned down an alley where he knew there was a wooden fence that was broken. When he reached it, he pulled the board aside and slipped through. He ran through the back yard and around to the front yard. The cop had seen him, but wasn't able to fit through the gate, so he was forced to climb over it. Again, this put a little more distance between them. Micky ran across the street and into the front yard of another house that was actually abandoned. Remembering where the broken window was, he leapt through it and ran through the house to the backyard and out through a hole in the metal fence into another alley. The cop was now having a hard time keeping sight of Micky, but as soon as Micky had plowed through the fence, a patrol car passed by the street adjacent to the alley and saw him. Micky gave another groan as the cop car pulled a U-turn and started down the alley. Micky ran down the other end of the alley and reached out to drop a trash can behind him, hoping to slow down the cop car. It didn't work; the cop just ran over it. _

"_Stop running, kid," the cop yelled through a bullhorn in his car. "We just want to talk to you."_

"_Yeah right," Micky mumbled. There was no way he was going to let them take him back home. If he went back home now, he doubted that he'd survive the beating he'd receive. He reached a house that had a stone fence around their backyard and, wanting to get out of the alley and away from the cop car, he jumped up on a trashcan and hoisted himself up and over the wall. A woman was in the backyard of this house and shrieked when he landed. Micky didn't slow down though; he muttered an apology and ran for the front yard over another fence. Then he turned and went back the direction he'd come, hoping to throw off the police. But he was in the street again, which made it open ground for the cop car which was much faster than him. He'd lost the cop chasing him on foot by now, but now he had to lose the patrol car. A mile up the road was an industrial area near the beach full of factories and shipyards. It would be much easier to lose a cop in there, so he ran through more alleys and yards, swerving and turning as much as he could to throw off the car. It worked somewhat; he could still hear the car now slowly looking down alleys and streets looking for him, but he was out of eyesight of it. _

_Until he was a few feet from the first factory. There was a wide expanse of road that he could easily be seen on and he almost booked it across, but he saw the floodlight from the cop car start to illuminate the street as the cop car began to slowly turn onto it. The street lights were out here, so he couldn't be seen unless he was illuminated by the light, so instead, he dashed for a manhole cover that was broken nearby and lifted it up. He jumped down into the sewer just as the floodlight lit up the entire street. He waited until he heard the car pass over him and then climbed up the ladder and carefully lifted the cover to peer out and make sure the cop car couldn't see him. The car turned down another street, and Micky made a run for it. He slipped through another hole in the fence around the factory and ran through the yard, careful to avoid the motion detector lights he knew were all over this factory. He hated trying to walk through this yard because of them, but he wasn't left much of a choice with the car chasing him. He finally made it to the back of the yard and climbed up and over the fence to run to the shipping yard a few feet away. He couldn't hear the cop car anymore, but he didn't want to stop running. _

_Once he reached the shipping yard full of old containers, he made his way over to a particular stack partially obscured by trees and tall weeds. Two on the bottom were labeled unusable due to rust and wear on the bolts. They were filled with supplies however used by landscapers of the shipyard and other workers. The box on the top however, was too far out of reach to be used as storage and was therefore empty. Micky climbed up the sides of the large shipping containers and through a rusted out hole in the top container. In the corner of the box was a bundle of blankets and in another corner was a pile of clothes. This is what Micky called home for the time being. It had taken him a month of sleeping at bus stops before he found this place, and it wasn't that comfortable, but it was out of the way of prying eyes and better than nothing. Once he was inside, he placed a board in front of the hole to try and keep some of the cold night air out. Then he settled himself in with his blankets and pulled out his bounty for the night. He'd found an old sweater that someone had thrown away earlier and threw that in with a pile of clothes he needed to wash in the morning. Granted, he would usually just take them down to the beach where he'd made a little tide pool near a collection of rocks that no one frequented where he usually bathed and washed his clothes, but again, it was better than nothing. And better than going home. _

_He had a few books in here that people had thrown away that kept him entertained during the day while the workers were out and about as well as a few magazines. He also had the radio he'd rigged up from several old broken ones and other parts from the trash behind the electronics store. He'd also periodically go to the local library and read books there, studying as much as he could. While he couldn't go to school, he still wanted to take a GED test when he turned 18 to say he could at least have a life as an adult. And to do that, he needed to learn as much as he could on his own. Which he figured he was doing well seeing as how he could tinker with almost anything electronic and make it work. _

_Tired and hungry, his legs felt like they were on fire from the run. He'd probably run a good three miles from those cops between all the swerving and back-tracking he'd done; all without having eaten a bite that day. He ate one of the bananas he'd stolen and an apple before making a sandwich out of the peanut butter and bread. He tinkered with a few of his contraptions to make sure they still worked after being jumbled around in his back pack and finally curled up into his makeshift bed and fell asleep. It wasn't a great life, but it was better than being beaten every day. It was better than being told you were worthless and wouldn't amount to anything. At least now he could go to bed without praying that he __**wouldn't**__ wake up the next morning._

* * *

Davy drove the stolen car through the streets of Malibu, elation filling him with Peter's victory of shooting out the tire of their pursuer and rendering them unable to follow anymore. His elation was extremely short-lived however, when Peter pulled himself back in the car and nearly passed out in the passenger seat. He looked pale and weak. His face was starting to become drenched with sweat and his eyes looked hollow. Davy's stomach knotted up once again at the sight of his friend.

"Peter," he said a little forcefully. "Peter, you have to stay awake, ok? Pete?"

"I'm ok," Peter mumbled.

"Peter, please, you aren't supposed to go to sleep with a concussion, and I've no doubt that's what you have right now," Davy pled his voice cracking with worry and fear a little. "This is bad. This is all really, really bad. You need a hospital."

"Not before we save Mike and Micky," Peter mumbled, his speech starting to slur.

"And how do you plan on doing that in the condition you're in? We can't go to the cops after having just stolen a car."

"Well, I can't exactly leave them in that warehouse. Go to the cops. If we get in trouble, I stole the car, not you. I'll go to jail, not you. And Mike and Micky will be ok."

"Peter, I can't let you do that."

"But you can let Mike and Micky suffer in that warehouse?"

"Of course not! I just…" Davy trailed off. He really didn't know what to do now.

"Pull over," Peter said suddenly snapping Davy out of his thoughts.

"What?" Davy asked.

"Pull over!" Peter said forcefully. Davy quickly pulled off to the side of the road and Peter opened the car door and leaned out. Davy's stomach clenched again when he realized his friend was throwing up. Peter was really sick. Davy looked around and found a stash of napkins in the center console of the car. When Peter pulled himself back in, Davy handed the napkins to Peter to clean himself up before driving off again. No matter what they decided to do, Davy knew they had to put distance between themselves and Micky's parents.

"Where's that lifeguard station you said you and Mike stayed at that has a first aid kit?" Davy asked.

"Up by the pier about a couple miles from the pad," Peter answered, his speech very slurred at this point.

"Ok, that's about 5 miles from where we are now," Davy mused. "Maybe we can go there and I can find something in there to help you. Then we can figure out where to go from there."

"Davy," Peter said. "We have to go back to the warehouse."

"No," Davy said firmly. "You'll just get yourself killed going there in the condition you're in. Don't even try to argue with me, we aren't going to the warehouse and we aren't going to the cops."

"Well then what are we going to do?"

"I have no idea…yet." Davy turned a corner onto 5th street and saw something rather odd ahead of him; a man standing in the street alone. When Davy got closer, he realized who it was.

"Mike?" Peter said as he realized the same thing.

"Mike!" Davy exclaimed pulling the car to a stop next to Mike and getting out. Davy ran up and hugged him, but pulled away as soon as Mike let out a gasp of pain. "Mike, what's going on? Where's Micky?"

"Davy? Peter?" Mike asked a little confused.

"Yeah, it's a long story, but where's Micky?" Davy said. Mike looked in just about as bad a condition as Peter.

"They…they took him," Mike answered numbly. "He's hurt really bad. I have to help him." Davy's blood ran cold. Mike seemed a little out of it.

"Took him where?" Davy prodded. Mike nearly fell over and Davy had to react quickly to catch him. "Mike?" he asked, but Mike didn't answer him. Peter leaned over to open the door behind the driver's seat, and Davy carefully led Mike to it.

"Mike, where did they take Micky?" Peter asked again as Davy got back in the driver's seat. Mike mumbled something incoherent and Davy groaned inwardly. Both his friends needed a hospital and Micky was in desperate need of rescue. Davy knew he was outnumbered if he took his friends to the hospital and went up against Peter's family alone. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed his friends to get better fast and he needed their help in rescuing Micky. And if he took them to the hospital, the cops would be alerted and Peter would get arrested for stealing the car. Davy sighed knowing his only option was to take his friends to the lifeguard station where there were some medical supplies and try and nurse them back to as much of a healthy state as he could. He didn't have much practice dealing with concussions, but he hoped he knew enough about dealing with drug overdoses to help his friends.

It seemed like it took forever to reach the pier near the abandoned lifeguard station. Peter was about to pass out again and Mike was babbling incoherently in the back. If he didn't have experiences like this with his parents, it would have freaked him out, but he had dealt with these kinds of symptoms enough times to keep himself focused and calm. Even though he was freaking out a little on the inside knowing these symptoms _weren't_ drug induced and it was his friends; the people he cared about most in the world. He decided to carry Peter in first as he looked a little weaker than Mike. He had to stop again to throw up on the way, but they managed to make it inside the building safely. Then he went back for Mike. Mike stumbled a few times on the way, but because Davy was supporting him with his arm wrapped around Mike's waist, Mike stayed standing. Once they were all safely inside the lifeguard station, Davy locked the door behind them and looked for the first aid kit. Because it was in a lifeguard station, it had more than just the normal, everyday supplies. There was a small O2 breather and several bandages. There were also a few needles and a few vials of medication. Davy realized this kit must have belonged to a special certified lifeguard able to give medication on scene instead of waiting till they reached the hospital. It really was a stroke of luck that it was left here. Davy carefully read the labels on each medicine looking to see if he recognized any of them. He recognized most of them; one was a very strong pain killer, another an anti-inflammatory that could help reduce swelling, and another was an anti-nausea medication, along with several others. All of which his parents either needed at one time or another or abused, which meant Davy knew exactly how much of each to give his friends. But first he had to figure out exactly what was wrong with Mike. But Davy assumed it would be safe to at least give him the pain killer.

He pulled the kit over to Mike who was now lying on the ground next to Peter. Both looked as though they were seconds away from passing out. Davy pulled up Mike's sleeve and nearly gasped when he saw there was already a puncture mark in his arm. A very poorly executed puncture mark at that. It was still bleeding a little and beginning to bruise around the hole. He looked at Mike and realized there was another, older puncture mark in his neck. This one had already bruised up. Davy's heart skipped several beats wondering what they'd done to his friend.

"Mike, what did they do to you?" Davy asked trying hard to keep his voice steady and calm. But Mike was still muttering something under his breath. "Mike!" Davy tried yelling to get him to snap into focus, but it didn't work. He couldn't give Mike any medication unless he knew what they'd already given him. He knew all too well what could happen if two drugs interacted badly with each other. He took a deep breath to steel himself before slapping Mike across the face.

"Ow!" Mike gasped, but at least he was back in focus again.

"I'm sorry, but I had to snap you back," Davy said. "Mike, you need to tell me what they did to you."

"They tied us to chairs," Mike said, his speech just as slurred as Peter's. "And they pushed me around a lot. But they did the worst to Micky." Davy's heart nearly stopped. If Micky was worse than Mike, he didn't even want to imagine it.

"They injected you with something," Davy said trying to push to the main point. "Twice. What did they give you?"

"They knocked us out with something," Mike answered. "I think it's still in my system. I don't think it was that long ago, maybe a few hours."

"What else?"

"Some sort of medication to reduce swelling in my head. Vern pushed me into the ground and my head bounced a little. My head was already still hurting from the accident and Percy wanted me alive, so he told Dr. Schillinger to give me something to help." Davy didn't know who any of those people were, but Peter seemed to. At the mention of Percy, he snapped his eyes open and stared at Mike.

"Percy?" he breathed. "My brother?"

"Yeah," Mike answered.

"Who's Vern?" Peter asked.

"Never mind that, right now," Davy said. They didn't have time for this. If they thought that Mike needed medication to stay alive, Mike's condition was serious. Davy figured it was ok to give Mike the pain killer and he wanted him to rest after that. The sleeping meds they'd given him would help with that, but since he didn't want to injure Mike's arm further, he carefully gave Mike the pain killer in the other arm.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Davy answered. "I've done this dozens of times for my parents. It's been a long time, but I recognize the medications in that kit and I know what they do. This is a pain killer. It'll also help Mike sleep."

"He has to tell us where they took Micky," Peter argued.

"He can do that in the morning," Davy answered. "They still need to keep Micky alive to find you, remember?"

"Yeah, but Mike said they did worse to Micky," Peter argued. "If Mike's barely alive, what's Micky's condition? We have to help him."

"No, Peter," Davy said firmly as he bandaged Mike's arms properly. "Neither of you are in any condition to do any rescuing right now anyway. You're next. I'm going to give you the same pain killer and there's something in there that should help your own concussion. Probably the same thing they gave to Mike. Hopefully you two will be better by morning and _then_ we can work out a plan to save Micky." Peter started to protest more, but Davy silenced him with a firm look as he made his way over to him with the first aid kit. "I'm also going to give you some anti-nausea medication for your stomach, ok? And then I want you to rest. Sleep."

"I thought you said a person with a concussion isn't supposed to go to sleep?" Peter said.

"Well, not normally, but your body needs the rest and with the medications, you should be fine," Davy answered. One at a time he gave Peter the proper medications and tried not to wince when Peter inhaled sharply every time Davy poked him with the needle. It only took a minute for Mike and Peter to fall asleep and Davy then began trying his best to clean them up. The blood that had been leaking out of Peter's ear; the dried blood on Mike's neck; the fresh blood on his arm; and when he realized there was little blood in both Mike and Peter's mouths, he turned them on their sides so they wouldn't choke in case they were still bleeding. The whole time he was trying desperately to distance himself from the situation; if he dealt with exactly what was happening, he'd crumble into dozens of little pieces, and they couldn't afford that. Then he leaned against the wall and fell asleep himself.


	16. Courtroom Blowup

Author's Note: Thank you all for the kind reviews.

Chapter 16: Courtroom Blowup

_Mike sat in a large hallway waiting for his name to be called. His Aunt Kate sat on one side of him on the bench and Mr. Williams sat on the other side, both offering him support. He wore his green wool hat on his head like he had every day since his mother died and a loose fitting suit. His Aunt Kate was his father's sister. She had been appalled and horrified when she found out what had happened to Mike and his mother. She had gladly taken him in and had even mended his hat when holes or frays appeared, knowing how much it meant to him. Mr. Williams had stayed in contact with Mike and continued to encourage his studies helping him any time he need it. Today they were both here to support him on the second hardest day of his life. Today was the day he had to testify against his father for killing his mother and trying to kill him. _

_Mike felt his stomach in knots. He was terrified of his father, but also wanted him to pay for taking his mother away from him. He'd spent a year without her now, but it hadn't gotten any better. He still had nightmares about her death and would wake up screaming with his ears ringing from the gunshots; a sound he would never forget. His cousins had gotten used to him waking in the middle of the night and they all did their best to try and make him feel better. But they couldn't do much; they couldn't take away the nightmares. They couldn't bring his mother back. _

"_Hey, Michael," said a man coming towards them. "How are you holding up?" _

"_I'm scared, Detective Stabler" Mike answered as the man knelt in front of him. Detective John Stabler was the lead detective working the case. He had been incredibly kind and understanding to Mike throughout the process and worked hard to keep Mike calm and protected while they looked for his father. He had worked tirelessly to find his father and gather the evidence needed to put him in jail. It had taken only a month before they were able to track him down and arrest him. _

"_I understand," he answered. "But he can't hurt you in there. There are a lot of security guards and I'll be in there, too. You'll be completely safe."_

"_What about after?" Mike asked. "Are you sure he won't be able to hurt me after?"_

"_He'll be in jail, sweetie," Aunt Kate said wrapping her arms around him comfortingly. _

"_What if he doesn't get convicted?" Mike asked. "What if I mess up and he doesn't go to jail?"_

"_You won't mess up, Michael," Mr. Williams said. "Just tell the truth; there's nothing to mess up if you just tell the truth."_

"_There's a lot of other evidence against your father, too," Detective Stabler said offering a comforting smile to Mike. "You can do this, though, Michael. I know you can. You're a brave kid. You __**can**__ do this."_

"_And you'll be in there with me?" Mike asked. _

"_I'll be there, yes," Detecive Stabler answered. "But I won't be next to you. I'll be in those seats behind the prosecutor." Mike nodded. Detective Stabler had given him a tour of the courtroom the day before to try and ease his nerves a little. _

"_What about Mr. Williams and Aunt Kate?" Mike asked. _

"_They can't come in because they have to testify after you," Detective Stabler answered. "They can't go in there because it could taint their testimony."_

"_Robert Nesmith?" said the voice of another man by a set of double doors. Mike had been told he was the court clerk and when he announced his name, it would be time for Mike to go in. At the sound of his name, the knots in his stomach tightened and Mike felt like he couldn't breathe. No one had called him Robert in 12 years. _

"_It's ok, Michael," Detective Stabler said seeing Mike tense up with fear. _

"_You can do this, Michael," Mr. Williams said. _

"_He can't hurt you," Aunt Kate added squeezing his shoulders. "You'll do fine." Mike nodded, although he still felt scared, and got up. Detective Stabler led him into the courtroom before taking a seat behind the prosecutor: Mr. Beecher. He was guided by the clerk who'd called his name to a little boxed-off seat next to the judge. He swore the oath he'd been told he'd have to say about telling the truth and sat down. He had yet to look at his father, and wasn't sure if he wanted to. So he tried to put it off as much as he could and just stared at Mr. Beecher or Detective Stabler thinking if he looked into his father's eyes, he'd freeze up and wouldn't be able to do what he knew he had to do. The last time he'd seen his father had been when he'd killed his mother a year ago. _

"_Mr. Nesmith," Mr. Beecher said getting up from his chair at the prosecutors table. "I am very sorry about the loss of your mother."_

"_Thank you," Mike said out of habit. He knew most people just said that out of convention. How could they be sorry when they had no idea who his mother was or who he was. _

"_Your mother took you from your home when you were 3, do you know why?" Mr. Beecher asked. _

"_To protect me from my father," Mike answered. _

"_Why did you need protecting?" Mr. Beecher asked. Mike closed his eyes for a moment; he'd been through this so many times already and each time he felt like throwing up. _

"_My father killed my baby brother," Mike answered softly. "He was hurting my mom and me and he shook my baby brother until he died."_

"_Your mother told you this?" Mr. Beecher asked. _

"_Yes, she picked me up from school the day after my brother died and said we had to hide because my dad would kill us if we told the police anything."_

"_So you went into hiding for 11 years?"_

"_Yes, my mother started calling me by my middle name, Michael, and we changed our last name to Blessing to avoid being found."_

"_But he did find you?" _

"_Yes."_

"_What happened the day he found you?"_

"_He broke down our door and had a gun. He demanded we go home with him but mom and I refused." Mike stopped having reached the hardest part of the story. He looked at Detective Stabler who nodded to him in support, encouraging Mike to continue. "He pointed the gun at her and killed her. Then he pointed it at me, but I ran down the hall and he missed me."_

"_What did you do after that?"_

"_I pretended like I was dead hoping he'd go away." _

"_Thank you, Robert," Mr. Beecher said. _

"_Did you ever see your father hit your mother?" asked his father's defense attorney now getting up from his spot. Mike looked over out of habit and met eyes with his father. A chill ran down Mike's spine and his mind flashed back to the day his mother died. "Mr. Nesmith, please answer the question."_

"_No, I don't remember it," Mike said tearing his eyes away and trying to focus. _

"_So you don't know if your mother was even telling the truth?" the attorney asked. Anger boiled in Mike at the suggestion that his mother was a liar. He'd been told this might happen and was also told not to let it get to him. Just to tell the truth._

"_My mother never lied to me about anything," Mike said firmly. _

"_But you don't know for sure if your father killed your brother because you didn't see it."_

"_I do know that because my mother never lied to me. And my father killed my mother, so that kind of proves he's a murderer, doesn't it." Mike had to force himself to stay calm, but it wasn't working that well. "I believe my mother over a worthless piece of scum who kills his wife and tries to kill his son."_

"_Shut up, you little whelp!" his father roared jumping up from the table. _

"_Get control of your client," the judge said banging his gavel. His father's lawyer said something and Vern sat back down, but still glared angrily at Mike. _

"_Mr. Nesmith, there is no evidence that Vern Nesmith killed your brother," the defense attorney continued. "So it's possible that your mother killed your baby brother?" Mike felt his blood boil now. He glared at the defense attorney for having the audacity to suggest that. _

"_My father killed my brother," Mike affirmed. "And he shot my mother in the head right in front of me."_

"_If that's true, why didn't your mother go to the police?" _

"_She was scared. She said he'd kill us."_

"_Is it possible she didn't go to the police because she did it? She ran with you because she killed your brother?"_

"_No."_

"_And that your father found you wanting to take you home with him to keep you safe from her and when you found out she lied to you, you shot her?" Mike's blood froze at the defense attorney's words. _

"_Objection, your honor!" Mr. Beecher shouted. "There is absolutely no evidence supporting that claim whatsoever."_

"_I'm trying to establish reasonable doubt, your honor," the attorney said. _

"_Do you have any evidence to support this theory, Counselor?" the judge said. _

"_Not yet, your honor," the defense attorney said. _

"_Well, you can't go on a fishing trip here, Counselor, move along," the judge said. The attorney seemed taken aback. He visibly tried to find a new tact to take, but couldn't find anything. _

"_Nothing further," the attorney said moving back to sit down defeated. _

"_Cross your, honor?" Mr. Beecher asked. _

"_Go ahead," the judge said. _

"_Mr. Nesmith, do you remember anything about your father before you and your mother left?" Mr. Beecher asked. _

"_I remember a lot of loud noises and yelling," Mike said. "I remember a lot of crying."_

"_Did your father say anything to you and your mother before he killed her?"_

"_He kicked her when she tried to get me to run away. He kept telling us to shut up. He spoke to us like we were objects. Possessions of his."_

"_What did he say?"_

"_He said that she was his wife which meant she had to do what he said and I was his son which meant I had to do what he said. I still refused to go home with him and he hit me so hard he knocked me on the ground. My mother stood up to him and he shot her. He shot her in the head."_

"_I told you to shut up!" his father yelled again. "You're a liar!" Mike jumped back as his father tried to launch himself at Mike. But the half a dozen security guards sprang into action and Detective Stabler leapt over the barrier separating the gallery seats from the main courtroom and ran to Mike. "I'll kill you, you little rat!" his father kept screaming as he tried to fight his way through the security guards over to Mike. Detective Stabler grabbed Mike and pulled him through a side door away from the commotion in the courtroom. Detective Stabler set Mike down in a chair and kneeled down in front of him with his hands resting on the arms of the chair protectively. _

"_Are you ok, Michael?" Detective Stabler asked. Mike didn't have a response; he couldn't speak. "Don't worry, Michael, he just blew it for himself. With an outburst like that, he'll get convicted for sure. Not to mention trying to pin your mother's murder on you with absolutely no evidence to support it is the stupidest mistake that lawyer could have made. I guess you get what you pay for when you get court appointed attorneys." Mike still didn't say anything. He was breathing heavy and his eyes were wide. "Michael, they're going to lock him up for the rest of his life after that stunt, ok. He won't be able to touch you. You're safe." But Mike didn't feel safe. He could still hear his father shouting obscenities and threatening the life of everyone in the courtroom. _

Mike felt himself start to wake up as the sun poured in through the window. He didn't feel the same pain he felt when he'd fallen asleep, but then remembered that Davy had given him something to help with the pain. He felt a pressure on his head still, but was able to move without any pain. He looked around and saw Peter asleep a little ways away from him and Davy was curled up against the wall. He barely remembered running into them last night, and even more so barely remembered where he even was. But he did remember where Micky was.

"Davy," Mike whispered quietly hoping to wake him up, but not Peter. "Davy, wake up."

"Muh…" Davy mumbled waking up a little.

"Davy, wake up," Mike whispered again.

"Mike, why are you whispering?" Davy whispered back.

"I don't want to wake up Peter," Mike answered.

"Oh, yeah, he needs to sleep," Davy said getting up and walking over to Mike. "You both do. You should go back to sleep."

"I'm fine," Mike said. "We need to figure out a plan to save Micky fast. We only have until midnight. Maybe."

"What do you mean?" Davy said his face paling a little.

"They took Micky back to the pad," Mike explained. "They said I had until midnight to give them Peter and Patty or they'd kill Micky."

"Oh God."

"What happened to you guys, anyway? Micky said you ran off with Marcy and Patty."

"We did, but then we heard gunshots and we told Marcy and Patty to run to the ghost town we got stuck in a few years ago while Peter and I ran back to see if you were ok. We couldn't get close enough to see anything because by the time we got there the place was crawling with thugs. Peter and I decided to go to the police to try and get help, but we ran into Micky's parents. They wanted us to tell them where Micky and Marcy were and when we refused, they hit Peter. They hit him so hard the chair he was sitting in broke and when they left, we were able to cut the ropes against the metal protruding from it. Then we made a run for it, but they showed up just as we were leaving so we were sort of forced to steal a car."

"What?"

"Yeah, I guess Peter knows how to hotwire a car. Who knew?"

"Guess something he learned from his childhood paid off."

"Yeah, then we found you."

"Well, I'm glad you showed up when you did. You really only missed Peter's family by about 30 seconds. They threw me out of the back of a van and drove off. They'd just rounded the corner when you guys pulled up."

"Do you know what happened to my mother?"

"No, last I saw she was passed out on the floor tied up. Micky said he'd knocked her out as you guys took off. I assume they left her there. We told them she was your mother and that she was trying to kill you. They didn't seem to care too much about her."

"Oh. So what do we do now? We can't exactly give them Peter."

"I know. That's why I don't want to wake him up. Last time something like this happened, Peter ran off and gave himself over to them."

"Yeah, so how many of them are there?"

"Percy, Peter's mother, Tommy and another guy stayed pretty close, but there were about 5 or 6 other guys hanging around."

"So around 9 or 10?"

"10 or 11…there's one other person…" Mike trailed off not wanting to even bring up his father, but knowing he'd have to.

"Who is Vern?" Davy asked seeming to pick up on Mike's unease. "Peter didn't know him."

"He's my father," Mike said. He relayed the same story to Davy he had to Micky. Davy had just about the same reaction.

"Mike, you can't blame yourself for what happened," Davy said.

"That's easier said than done, buddy," Mike answered. He'd tried telling himself that multiple times and everyone in his family told him that, too. But he could never seem to fully accept it. He had frozen in fear when his mother needed him the most. He'd stood there like a scared chicken instead of helping his mother who'd sacrificed so much for him. Before Davy could argue back, he diverted the conversation back to what they were going to do to save Micky. "We don't have much time to figure out a plan to save Micky. They said we have until midnight to give them Peter and Patty before they killed Micky, but I don't know how much time he actually has."

"What do you mean?" Davy asked.

"I said last night they did worse to him," Mike answered. "They wanted me to tell them where Peter was. My dad wants to kill me for testifying against him, so they knew they couldn't threaten me to get Micky to talk, so they threatened Micky to get me to talk. I told them I didn't know where you guys went, but they didn't believe me at first. I made something up when Percy held a knife to Micky's throat and they knocked us out after that so we wouldn't try and escape while he went and looked. But of course, Peter wasn't there, so they came back angry. He sliced open Micky's arm. I begged him not to hurt Micky and that it was my fault, but they didn't care."

"How bad was he bleeding?" Davy asked.

"It was pretty bad, but…"

"But what?"

"I messed up…I was afraid they were going to hurt him again, so I made up another place Peter would go. They loaded us in the van this time to go look and Percy waited in the van with me and Micky. Percy insulted my mother and I attacked him. I should have kept my cool. I messed up, Davy. It's my fault."

"Mike, stop. Please don't blame yourself. What happened? What did Percy do?"

"He stabbed Micky in the shoulder," Mike said closing his eyes against the tears threatening to escape. "It looked like it went all the way through. Micky tried to hide it from me, but I could tell he was in a lot of pain. He's bleeding badly. If we don't get him to a hospital soon, he could die. I messed up. How could I have been so stupid?"

"Stop that," Davy said grabbing Mike firmly by the shoulders. "This isn't what Micky needs right now. Pull yourself together. We need you. Micky needs you."

"You're right, I know," Mike said taking a deep breath and trying to pull himself back together. "We need to figure something out. There's too many to take on by ourselves."

"We should go to the cops," Davy offered.

"No, he said no cops. He said he has friends who are cops out here and he'll find out and kill Micky immediately. We have to do this by ourselves. We need to lure them out. Away from the house so we can get in there and get Micky out. Then we let the cops deal with them, once we are all safe at the hospital."

"Sounds like a plan, but how do we lure them out?"

"That's going to be a little more difficult."

"I could try and lure them out. They haven't seen me yet, so I could-"

"Absolutely not," Mike said forcefully cutting Davy off mid-sentence. There was no way he was going to let Davy use himself as bait. Not when he'd already messed up and got Micky hurt.

"Mike, I'm a big boy," Davy argued.

"I know that, but you're also the only one who hasn't been hurt yet, and I intend to keep it that way," Mike retorted a little louder than he wanted. He looked over to where Peter had been sleeping, only to find the spot empty. Davy must have seen it too.

"Where's Peter?" Davy asked.

"Son of a…he left," Mike cursed.

"What? Why? Where did he go?"

"Where do you think, Davy!?" Mike exclaimed forcing himself up. His head spun a little, but he pushed it back.

"But…but he was asleep!" Davy exclaimed.

"Well, he must have woken up and heard what I said about Micky being a hostage," Mike answered. "We have to hurry. Try and beat him back to the house."


	17. Sacrifices

Author's Note: Ponderoso, Davy's ankle hasn't been sprained for a while. It was a small thing in chapter 1 that healed the next day. Just FYI.

Anyway, short chapter I know (but be cautioned, it's rather dark…I was almost in tears writing it), but hope you like it nonetheless…..

Chapter 17: Sacrifices

Peter quietly slipped out the broken window of the lifeguard station and walked along the beach. He would have moved faster, but he still felt a little dizzy from the concussion he had. The sun was coming up over the waves and was bright against his eyes, but he tried to ignore it. There was only one thing on his mind right now: his best friend bleeding to death in their home because of him. He'd woken up as soon as Mike had started whispering to Davy, but was too tired and sore to move or say anything. As soon as he heard that Micky was bleeding to death, however, he found a hidden reserve of strength and climbed out the window knowing Mike and Davy would try and stop him from turning himself over. Now he just wished it would take them a while to discover he was missing as he was moving slower than he thought he'd be able to.

Thoughts of what was happening to Micky swum through his head. He'd seen enough in his youth to have an idea of what could possibly be happening to his friend, and none of them were good. He couldn't get the image of Micky lying in a pool of blood out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know if Micky was in that condition, but his imagination had taken hold and refused to let go. He'd seen the cold lifeless eyes of a man before, and even that image entered his mind. He stopped and dropped to his knees in despair as the image of Micky's cold, lifeless eyes took hold in his brain, but he pressed on. If he got to the house sooner rather than later, maybe he could prevent that. He thought about taking the car they'd stolen to get there faster, but realized soon that it was probably already reported stolen and if he got pulled over and arrested, he'd be of no help to Micky at all.

He didn't even know exactly what he was going to do once he got to the pad, but he knew he had to try something. No sooner could he begin to make out their home a ways up the hill when he was grabbed from behind and dragged him into a line of trees. He began fighting thinking it was someone out to do him harm, but stopped when he recognized Mike and Davy's voices.

"Peter, stop!" Mike yelled as Peter nearly flung his arm back to connect with Mike's head. Davy had reached out and grabbed Peter's arm before it connected, sparing Mike further trauma to his head.

"Please don't hit Mike, Peter," Davy said. "His concussion is bad enough as it is."

"Well then don't run up and grab me like that!" Peter protested.

"Well, we tried calling after you, but apparently you didn't hear us!" Mike argued back.

"You did?" Peter asked. "I didn't hear anything." He really must have been lost to his thoughts if he didn't hear his friends calling to him.

"No, I guess you didn't," Mike said.

"Can you let me go now?" Peter asked.

"No, not until you promise you aren't going to pull a stunt like that again," Mike retorted.

"I have to save Micky!" Peter argued.

"Giving yourself over to them isn't going to do it!" Davy snapped. He was standing in front of Peter now, his face full of fear, worry, and despair. Mike was holding Peter's arms behind his back, but Peter could hear the frustration and worry in his voice. "You really think that you can just waltz in there and they're going to let Micky go?!"

"Well, they said they would!" Peter argued.

"And your family is always honest, right?" Mike scoffed. "They've never lied?"

"They don't lie to family," Peter said.

"Well, they were talking to me, and I'm not family," Mike answered. "So I think it's safe to assume they lied. Plus the deal was exchanging Micky for you AND Patty. And since Patty isn't around, they aren't going to let Micky go."

"I'll just make a new deal with them," Peter argued.

"When?" Davy asked. "After they've already surrounded and outnumbered you or after they've killed you?"

"And they're just going to try and force you to tell them where Patty is by torturing Micky," Mike argued. "And he really doesn't need any more wounds. I'm not even sure he can survive the one's he's got!"

"All the more reason to go rescue him!" Peter argued.

"Yes, but not like this, Peter," Davy retorted. "As a team. We rescue him as a team. That's how we work best."

"You remember what happened last time you tried this?" Mike asked. "We barely got out of that one. And besides, they didn't let Micky go once you got there like you thought they would either. After spending a few hours with your family, I know they aren't as stupid as Dragon Man's henchmen, so they'll be harder to overcome. Not to mention, you and I aren't exactly functioning at top performance either. And I know Micky won't be of any help. The only uninjured man we've got is Davy."

"Please, Peter," Davy pled. "You flying solo on this just isn't going to work. If anything, it's going to make things worse." Peter sighed, relenting. He knew they were right. His mind was just too foggy to make clear decisions, and he couldn't blame it all on the concussion. It was his devotion to his friends that made him like that; his willingness to sacrifice everything for them. Mike must have felt Peter relax a little against his grip, because he let Peter go. As soon as he did, Peter sunk to his knees in despair.

"Look, Peter," Mike said sitting down in the dirt next to him, "I know where you're coming from on this. Trust me. I'd be willing to turn myself over in an instant if it meant saving one of you, but it doesn't work that way this time. It's not going to help."

"What do we do then?" Peter asked fighting back tears.

"We figure out a plan," Davy answered. "Together. All three of us."

"I still have the gun we took from the Dolenz's," Peter said pulling it out of his waistband.

"Ok, just give that to me for now, ok?" Mike said taking it gingerly from Peter. "And let's hope we don't have to use it. Now, we need you to tell us what you know about your family. What are their weaknesses; what are their strengths?"

* * *

"Wake up!" Micky heard someone shouting. With a groan and a pain in his stomach, he slowly stirred. When he opened his eyes, he realized someone had kicked him in the stomach.

"Be gentle with him, Percy," said a woman. Slowly Micky realized it was Peter's mother.

"He can do what he wants, Christine," said an unfamiliar voice. "This is his job."

"But if he kills him before the other boy brings Peter and Patty to us, his plan won't work," Peter's mother argued.

"And how exactly are they going to know he's dead until they get here?" the man laughed.

"He's not going to die," Percy answered. "Not yet anyway." Percy leaned down now and ripped Micky's gag off. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," Micky moaned. He was surprised by how quiet his voice was. But then again he'd never felt this weak in his entire life. He looked on the floor and saw the rug he was laying on was stained with a rather large pool of blood. His blood.

"Good," Percy said.

"I still say this plan is risky in and of itself," the as yet unidentified man said. "Releasing Michael could backfire on you. For all you know, he could be dead in the street somewhere. Or he could have just run to wherever Peter's hiding and they all absconded together. There's too much that can go wrong with this."

"I learned a few things from them," Percy said. "They are all extremely loyal to each other. Just like Peter. They'd never leave a man behind. Trust me. This will work."

"I did trust you," the man responded. "That's why I didn't come out here until this morning. But you haven't yielded me any results yet."

"Give it time, father," Percy answered. Micky's stomach clenched; now Peter's entire family was here.

"Exactly why we need to leave this one alive," Christine said. "For now at least. If they don't return by midnight, we can get the information from him."

"You may as well kill me now," Micky said, his voice weak and hoarse. "Cause I ain't telling you a damn thing."

"I find people change their minds about things like that when they're at death's door, boy," Peter's father spat.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Micky laughed. It hurt, but he wanted it to seem like he wasn't intimidated by these people. "But I am not saying a word against any of my friends."

"We'll see about that," Peter's father said.

"I actually think he's not going to say anything," Percy said. "He's a lot like Peter. Stubborn and stupid."

"Peter's not stupid," Micky spat with all his strength. "You are the stupid ones. Peter's got more brains than all of you combined, and then some."

"Watch your tongue, boy," Peter's dad barked and kicked Micky in the ribs. Micky groaned a little in pain and rolled onto his side. "So disrespectful."

"No one teaches manners anymore," Christine said with a laugh.

"This coming from the woman keeping me prisoner in my own house?" Micky scoffed. He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut; he really had no filter between his mouth and his brain and it usually got them into a lot of trouble.

"Shut up," Peter's dad spat and kicked Micky in the stomach this time. Micky felt all the air rushing out of his lungs as he gasped in pain and curled his knees toward his chest.

"Don't waste your energy, Toby," Christine said. "This boy isn't worth it."

"I won't have a brat insulting you," Toby countered.

"He insulted all of us," Percy laughed. "He called us stupid. But that doesn't matter. We may need him. You can punish him later. After we've found Patty and Peter."

"You really think this is going to work, don't you," Micky said, again with no filter on his mouth. But at the same time, if he made them angry enough, they'd lose their cool and possibly make a mistake. "You honestly think that Mike is going to just hand you Peter and Patty in exchange for me? It wouldn't even be a life for a life at that point. It would be sacrificing three lives for one. And one of those lives is that of an unborn baby. He's never going to do it."

"Maybe not, but I'm betting Peter will," Percy answered.

"Peter will try and turn himself over to you, but he's never gonna give you Patty and her baby," Micky argued. "And Mike won't let Peter turn himself over in the first place. So your plan is going to fail miserably and you'll have gone through all this work for nothing. In fact, while you're sitting here twiddling your thumbs, my bet is that Patty is running as far away from here as possible like she promised me she would if we had to separate, and Mike and Peter will be right behind her."

"You're friends aren't going to leave you here," Percy sneered.

"They might if they thought I was dead," Micky said. "I am bleeding a lot, after all. Mike saw you stab me. If he's smart, which he is, he's gonna high tail it away from here and make sure Peter and Patty are safe after seeing what you've done to me. He already lost one person he loved. He's not going to stand by and lose another."

"All the more reason why he'll come rescue you," Percy spat. His anger was indeed growing and Micky was going to use that to keep pushing him into making a mistake.

"Actually, just the opposite," Micky said. "He'll see me as a lost cause and try and save who he can. They probably spent the whole night putting as much distance between you and them as they could, which means they've got a good 6 or 7 hour head start on you."

"Do you know where they'd go?" Toby asked.

"I don't even think it would matter if I did," Micky laughed, even though it hurt. "They're already long gone. You'd never catch up to them."

"We have a private plane, boy," Toby spat. "Tell me where they'd go."

"Remember what I said earlier about not telling you squat?" Micky laughed again, internally wincing in pain and trying to hide it on the outside. "Yeah, still stands. I am not telling you a thing."

"Do you have a death wish or something, kid?" Tommy asked.

"What, just because I refuse to let you hurt my friends?" Micky scoffed. "No, see I know I'm dying. I can feel it. I'm not blind. I can see the amount of blood I've lost, and I can feel it. So I really don't care what you do with me anymore. I figure I'm dead either way and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. But what I can do and what I do care about is my friends staying safe, so I'm keeping my mouth shut."

"Sounds to me like you aren't," Vern sneered.

"No, see making you angry and seeing you guys realize you messed up? That's just fun," Micky snapped knowing he was about to push them to their limit. He knew what he'd been saying about Mike wasn't true. He knew Mike would be trying to launch a rescue mission, and the odds were against them right now; they were severely outnumbered. If Micky could just make some of these idiots leave and start after an imaginary trail left by Mike and Peter, it would even the odds significantly. As for the rest of what he was saying, he wasn't sure if it was a lie or not. But it seemed to be working, so he went with it. "I figure I can have one last laugh at your expense before I die."

"You little twerp," Toby said and threw another kick at Micky's gut. Micky gasped for air again and coughed. When he did, he saw a he'd coughed up a little blood. "Tell me where they went!"

"Not telling you anything," Micky spat weakly. Toby kicked Micky in the stomach again, but this time Micky felt something crack and a sharp pain rose in his chest. He coughed up even more blood now.

"I think you will," Catherine said moving behind him. She stepped on his hand and Micky felt and heard something pop when she put her full weight on it. Micky buried his face in the rug and cried out in pain. "You may be dying, but that doesn't mean we can't make the last hours of your life as miserable as possible."

"Good luck, lady," Micky answered weakly. "There's nothing you can do to me that would compare to what I've already been through in my life. I've been at the point where I prayed to die. You've got me nowhere near that point."

"That can easily be changed," she sneered.

"Go ahead and try, but in the meantime, you're wasting more time," Micky answered. "Cause I'm not telling you anything."

"Enough of this," Toby said and stomped on Micky's face. Micky's vision darkened significantly and his ears starting ringing. He felt blood start coming from his nose, but he didn't care; his plan was working. "Percy, I'm done waiting. Tommy, come with me. You five follow us. Split up and start searching the city. They have to be here somewhere."

"I told you," Micky said, "they're long gone…searching the city won't do you any good."

"Then we'll search outside the city," Toby sneered. "Airports, bus stations, we'll turn this state upside down until we find them."

"What about us?" Catherine said. "What if the boy is wrong?"

"That's why you're going to stay here," Toby answered. "If he's wrong and they show up, kill them all."

"What about Patty?" Christine asked.

"I don't care anymore," Toby spat back. "That girl has caused way too many problems. Kill her. Set an example. No one crosses us. No mercy." Without further argument, Toby left and took 6 goons with him, narrowing out the numbers left in the house to Vern, Percy, Christine, Timothy, and one other guy who hadn't said anything. Micky had no idea where the doctor that had tended to Mike had gone, but he didn't care. The numbers had now turned a little more to Mike's favor. Micky smiled to himself as he saw a new pool of blood collect under his head from his nose. He felt too weak to move and he felt like he couldn't even find the strength to speak anymore, but he still wanted to stay awake and alert long enough to know his friends would truly be ok, so he focused the last remaining energy he had into that. He realized that some of his words may indeed have been true. Evening the odds for his friends may well have been his last act, but that made him happy. He knew his sister would be safe with Patty and his friends would have better chances of surviving any attack they launched. And their safety was all that mattered to Micky, even if that meant sacrificing himself.


	18. Rescue Mission

Author's Note: Sorry for the mix up with Peter's mother's name. It is Christine. Not sure why I wrote Catherine a few times…..could be related to the fact that I've gotten 5 hours of sleep every day for the past 3 days and when I tried doing calculus homework tried to say 2*0.5 was 4, then realized that wasn't right and said it was 3…that's when I put the pencil down and took a break from homework….so yeah, sorry…..every character's name is important. Either someone from my life or derived from another show/movie that I love. Kind of like a game for me to see how many people can get the references.

Chapter 18: Rescue Mission

Micky lay on the floor somewhat at peace. He felt himself slowly slipping away, but wanted to push a little farther just to make sure his friends would be ok. He closed his eyes and focused on fighting just a little longer. His mind replayed dozens of images as he thought about his friends. They'd been through a lot of rough times together, but they'd always pulled through. This time was different. This time there was just too much stacked against them. But Micky was at peace with that knowing that only he would be the one to pay the ultimate price; and they could easily find another drummer.

"You had better not be lying to us," Percy sneered kneeling down next to him. Micky didn't say anything; he couldn't. Micky didn't even care when he saw that Percy had pulled out a knife. "Tell me where they went." But still Micky didn't say anything. He didn't even try.

"Percy, he's not going to say anything," Christine said kneeling next to him. "You were right; he's stupid and stubborn."

"I swear if you sent them on a wild goose chase like your stupid friend, I will cut you into so many pieces they'll never be able to put you back together," Percy spat. Micky glared at him and was finally able to get out just one word.

"Burn," Micky whispered. Percy knew exactly what Micky meant even if he couldn't get the full phrase out, and he growled in anger.

"You first!" Percy snarled and cut a slice in Micky's chest. Micky screamed in pain not having the energy to try and hide it anymore.

* * *

Peter carefully walked with his friends toward their house, hoping against hope that Mike's plan would work and that they weren't already too late to save Micky. Suddenly the door opened and Mike and Davy ducked out of sight, but Peter wasn't paying that much attention, so had to get pulled down by Mike by the back of his shirt. He had his back to the house and couldn't see what was happening or who was leaving, but he could hear several sets of footsteps walking away followed by a car starting and pulling away. They waited a little longer until they were sure the people weren't coming back right away.

"Well that was lucky," Davy mumbled. "Wonder why they left."

"How many people left?" Peter asked.

"6," Mike answered. "Including Tommy. I didn't see Percy or your mother, though, so they must still be inside."

"That's ok," Peter said. "I can handle it."

"Are you sure?" Davy asked. "Cause we can still go with using me as a distraction if you want."

"No," Peter answered. "I can do this. I promise."

"Ok, here's the gun," Mike said handing the gun to Peter. "Please be very careful with it. These things are temperamental."

"I know how to handle a gun," Peter answered taking the gun back from Mike. "I held my first gun when I was 2."

"Oh," Mike said. There was a mixture of pity and grief in his face, but Peter could also tell he was trying to hide it. Mike was about to say something else when they heard a sound that made all of them sick: the sound of a man screaming in agony. All three turned toward the house and stood frozen for a few seconds.

"You guys go," Peter said standing up to prepare himself. "I can do this. We have to hurry." Mike and Davy just nodded silently and made their way around the back of the house. Peter took a deep breath and walked toward the front door. He focused on the cold metal in his hands, knowing if he thought too much about anything else, he wouldn't be able to do this. He gripped the gun tighter in his hand and opened the door to his house. Several heads turned toward him, including his mother and Percy who were kneeling on the floor next to Micky. When Peter saw Micky, he almost lost all nerve and strength he had built up to do this; Micky was a battered mess of blood and bruises. Percy was holding a knife against Micky's chest and Peter could see a rip in his shirt and a fresh, deep cut across his chest; that must have been the reason why he screamed a moment ago. When Percy saw Peter at the door, he smiled.

"Well, look what we have here," Percy sneered. "Looks like you were wrong, Micky. You're boy did come for you."

"But he came alone," Christine said. "Where's Patty? We made a deal for you and Patty."

"You're not going anywhere near her," Peter said raising the gun and pointing it at his mother.

"Put the gun down, Peter," Percy said with a slight laugh.

"No," Peter said trying to pull every bit of strength he had and trying not to look at Micky. If he looked at his friend in his weakened state, Peter was sure he'd break. "New deal. You let him go, and I don't shoot you."

"You!? Shoot us!?" Percy laughed. "Peter, you wouldn't even hurt an ant!"

"Well, things change when you mess with my friends," Peter answered.

"I don't believe you," Percy said. "You haven't got it in you to hurt anyone. You're too much of a sissy."

"Oh yeah?" Peter asked. "How's this for a sissy?" Peter aimed the gun at a glass sitting on the table next to his mother and shot. The glass exploded into dozens of pieces and his mother even let out a small shriek of surprise. "Don't tempt me, Percy. I'm not playing games. You hurt my friends; I can't let you get away with that. They're innocent people."

"Innocent?" Percy sneered. "No one is truly innocent in this world. Everyone's done something to hurt someone else."

"You're wrong," Peter said. "They haven't done a single thing to hurt anyone. They don't deserve to be hurt."

"They took you away from us, Peter," Christine said walking closer to Peter. He took a step back to try and keep distance between them.

"I left of my own free will," Peter said. "I didn't even meet them until I got here, so they have nothing to do with my leaving. That was all me."

"Yes, but if it weren't for them, you would have come to your senses and come home," Christine said.

"You really believe that?" Peter asked. "Then you're more stupid than I thought. I _hate_ you. What part of that don't you understand? I stabbed Dad for crying out loud. And you took a shot at me." Peter almost couldn't believe the words had left his mouth. He'd never said he'd hated anyone before, but this time he knew he meant it.

"I didn't shoot at you," Christine said.

"I did," Percy said. "I thank you for leaving the way you did. It gave me an opportunity to show Mom and Dad what I can really do, and with you dead, I'll be top dog." Percy lunged for Peter and the gun and in that instant, Peter pulled the trigger again.

* * *

Mike crept behind the house with Davy close behind him. He glanced into the window and saw Peter standing in the living room with everyone looking at him; just like he had planned. Percy and Christine were standing next to each other and Percy held a bloody knife in his hand. Mike saw his father in the corner of the room and tensing himself as though preparing for a fight. Three other men, including Timothy, stood near Vern and were looking rather vicious. Mike severely hoped he hadn't made a drastic mistake in sending Peter in to be a distraction. He couldn't bear it if something happened to Peter because his plan failed. Then he looked for Micky, but didn't see him right away. When he finally saw him, Mike's heart stopped for a brief moment. Micky was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood and he wasn't moving. His back was to Mike, so Mike couldn't even tell if Micky was awake or…he shook his head trying to remove the thought before it finished itself. Davy pulled on his sleeve a little and let out a desperate whimper.

"Micky…" he breathed.

"He's ok, Davy," Mike said trying to sound firm and confident. "Just keep saying that. He's ok. Come on; we have to do this quickly." Davy nodded and the two made their way to a spot under Micky and Mike's bedroom window. Mike kneeled down so Davy could climb on his shoulders, but Davy seemed hesitant.

"Are you sure about this, Mike?" Davy asked. "I don't want to hurt you any more than you already are."

"Davy, now is really not the time to be questioning this, or do I have to walk you over to that window again to remind you of what's at stake here?" Mike said. He felt bad for using Micky's current condition to guilty Davy into doing this, but it had to be done. Having Davy climb on him like this would probably hurt, but he didn't care. His concern was for his friend who was currently a bloody mess. Davy was about to climb on his shoulders when they heard a gunshot. Mike motioned for Davy to wait there and ran back over to the window. He saw that Peter had only fired a warning shot like he said he might have to in order to make himself believable. Mike dashed back over to Davy and urged him to hurry.

Davy had taken off his boots, so he was barefoot when he stood on Mike's shoulders, which made things less painful, but he still felt his head swim a little. He forced himself to stay focused and remain calm as he stood up as tall as he could with Davy on his shoulders. Davy jumped off his shoulders and just barely grabbed the ledge of the second story window. Mike watched to make sure he made it into the room ok, before darting off to push the dune buggy into position. No sooner had he done this, than he watched in horror as Percy lunged for Peter through the window. He heard another gunshot go off, but it missed its mark. Mike wasn't sure if this was done on purpose, but seeing how Peter held the gun and moved with it, he had an idea it was. The bullet must have passed close enough to Percy to stop him in his tracks because the younger boy froze for a split second and just stared dumbfounded at Peter.

"You shot me!?" Percy bellowed loud enough to be heard through the door. Mike took this opportunity to open the back door as quietly as he could so the little noise it made wouldn't be heard over Percy's yelling. "How dare you!?"

"You just tried to attack me, Percy!" Peter snapped back. "I told you not to test me! And I didn't shoot you; I shot at you!"

"Same difference, you little brat!" Percy went to lunge for Peter again, but Davy had found the smoke bombs Micky had kept in his room. Mike caught a brief glimpse of Davy as he opened the door to Mike and Micky's room and threw the smoke bomb down. Peter swung his fist and connected right with Percy's face. Peter had been forced to hit people before, but he always hated it and it was never like that; the punch was hard enough to knock his little brother unconscious and just before everything was obscured by smoke, Percy hit the floor. Mike dashed into the room as Davy jumped down from the second floor landing and Peter dashed toward Micky. They had a home field advantage, so to speak, because they knew the apartment like the back of their hands, so they could move deftly through the room as it filled with smoke, but no one else could.

Christine tried to grab Davy but tripped over a chair and stumbled to the floor. The other goons in the room had a similar problem, including Mike's father. Mike smiled a little when he heard Vern trip and fall to the ground with a string of curses. The three boys reached Micky at the same time and Mike and Peter grabbed him; Mike grabbed him by the shoulders and Peter by the feet. Davy meanwhile set off another smoke bomb as the first one had begun to dissipate before running for the door. Mike and Peter quickly carried Micky outside, which was difficult given just how limp Micky was. They ran to where Mike had pulled up the dune buggy and Peter and Mike climbed in with Micky in between them. Davy set off a few more bombs behind them to obscure their retreat, including one right next to the dune buggy before throwing several spares in the passenger seat and climbing behind the driver's seat. Peter and Mike sat in back with Micky in their laps and rushed to untie his hands as Davy started the buggy and sped off as fast as he could.

Mike could feel his clothes begin to get wet with his friend's blood and he looked down at his friend as they sped off. Micky's face was completely devoid of color. Blood had coagulated around the wounds in his shoulder and his arm, but he had a fresh cut on his chest, he had blood coming from his nose and there was a little blood around his mouth. Mike was finding it very difficult to stay calm. The only thing he could cling to in order to keep himself sane was the fact that Micky was breathing and his eyes were open, if only just.

"Micky, can you hear us?" Peter asked as Davy pulled onto the streets and wove through traffic.

"Pete, you're ok," Micky moaned out so weakly Mike had to lower his head just to hear him. Micky coughed and Mike was horrified seeing blood come from him as he did so.

"Ssh…" Mike said running his fingers through his friend's hair to try and keep him calm and relaxed. "Don't talk. Just relax. You're going to be fine, Micky. We're taking you to the hospital and you're going to be fine."

"I just need to know you guys are ok," Micky said coughing up a little more blood. "I got rid of a few of them for you."

"We saw that," Mike said. "But stop talking, ok? Every time you do, you cough up blood. Please, just relax."

"Peter," Micky said, "I have to tell you…" Micky trailed off and closed his eyes.

"No!" Mike yelled at his friend. "Micky, stay awake!"

"Come on, Micky," Peter pled, a slight hint of hysteria in his voice. "Tell me what you need to tell me! Micky!?"

"Guys, we have company," Davy said looking over his shoulder. Mike looked back and saw a car speeding down the road behind them.

"Not again," Mike mumbled. "Peter, throw those smoke bombs at them!" Peter nodded and grabbed one of the smoke bombs. It hit the hood of their pursuer's car, but they just drove right through the smoke cloud swerving only a little.

"Well, that didn't work!" Peter exclaimed.

"The gun, Peter!" Davy yelled. "Shoot their tire like you did with Micky's dad!"

"Right," Peter said grabbing the gun from his waistband. He wasn't able to get off a shot though before the car sped up and knocked into them. Peter dropped the gun on the floor of the buggy and Micky moaned in pain as the entire buggy was jolted forward.

"Davy, lose them!" Mike yelled. "Micky can't handle this."

"I'm trying!" Davy said. "This thing just isn't as fast as a car!"

"Turn left!" Mike exclaimed. Without missing a beat, Davy turned the wheel and steered the buggy left down a side street. Their pursuers missed it, which put a little distance between them again as they had to backtrack. Peter grabbed the gun and stood up to take aim behind them. His first shot found its mark and popped one of the tires of the pursing car, but someone from the pursing car fired a shot at Peter at the same time. Before Mike could react, Peter fell and tumbled out of the buggy onto the hard pavement. Davy was going too fast to stop easily, but Mike smelled burning rubber as Davy slammed on the brakes and Mike had to grip Micky tightly in his arms to keep him from flying forward. Mike looked behind them and saw Peter lying on the street behind them. Davy threw the buggy into reverse and sped towards Peter as Mike watched his father get out of the car that had chased them followed by Christine. They started running towards Peter, but Davy was faster now.

Mike grew worried when he sped right past Peter, but realized a second later as Davy swerved that Davy was trying to hit Christine and Vern with the buggy. Neither of them realized this in time, so they were both knocked to the ground with a loud smack and neither moved. Davy leapt out of the car and toward Peter a few feet in front of them now. Peter was able to push himself up and Davy was able to help Peter back to the buggy fairly quickly before jumping back in the driver's seat and speeding off.

"Peter, are you ok?" Mike asked.

"Yeah," Peter said hoarsely. "They only nicked my arm." Peter was holding his arm and Mike saw a little blood seep out between his fingers. His face was scratched and his clothes were a little torn from the fall and he seemed a lot weaker. And there was now fresh blood coming from his ear and nose.

"Davy, hospital. Now!" Mike said firmly.

"Already on it, Mike," Davy answered. Mike turned back to Micky still lying with his head in Mike's lap. Mike's clothes were now almost thoroughly soaked as Micky had now begun sweating, too. Mike gripped Micky's hand in his to try and urge him to stay awake, but his words caught in his throat when he felt how cold Micky's hand was. How could he be so cold, yet be sweating so much?

"No, no, Micky, no," Mike nearly sobbed. "Come on, buddy, wake up. You can do this. You have to wake up. You have a little sister who's so excited to get to know you. You can't leave her now. You can't leave us. Please wake up, Micky. Please." But he got no response. Not even a muscle twitch. He placed his hand on Micky's chest just to make sure he could still feel it move, but a choked gasp escaped his mouth when he realized that he didn't feel anything. No movement coming from Micky whatsoever.


	19. From Bad to Worse

Author's Note: If anyone can help me with something, that would be great. I'm trying to buy Monkees CD's, but there's so many different versions, that I don't know what to buy to get the complete collection of songs. I know I have to buy the 3 missing links, but also not sure if I should buy the physical CD cause I like having the inserts when they have cool pics and/or song info or just buy the digital version of the CD on itunes. None of the stores around me has any CD's in stock…..

Anyway, on to the chapter…..Kinda short and delayed, but I have 2 tests this week and a new class starting in addition to the chemistry 1, calculus 1 and 300 level history class. :D

Chapter 19: From Bad to Worse

Mike's heart broke when he didn't feel anything from Micky. All he could do was urge Davy to drive faster, but the buggy couldn't go any faster than it already was. They were about to pull into the hospital, when Mike heard something behind them that made his blood turn ice cold: police sirens. The police were now trying to pull them over. The only relief Mike felt was that they were at the hospital. Davy ignored them until they had pulled to the front entrance of the emergency room. Mike immediately grabbed Micky and he and Peter carefully but quickly carried him into the hospital while Davy stayed outside the hospital to deal with the cops. Mike thought he heard them calling after Mike and Peter, but he ignored it and ran through the doors. It was hard to carry Micky as Mike's head was still swimming, but he tried to ignore it. A woman behind the nurse's counter leapt up immediately and ran to grab a bed for them to put Micky on.

"What happened?" she asked.

"He's been attacked," Mike answered. "Beaten and stabbed. Please help him. He's not breathing."

"Ok, you need to wait here," she said as she began to push Micky into the back on the bed.

"I don't want to leave him," Mike argued. She paused just long enough to look them both over.

"I understand that, but you aren't in very good condition either," she said firmly but sympathetically. "You need to wait here and get taken care of yourself. Your friend will be in good hands, I promise." Without saying another word or waiting for them to argue any further, she darted off with Micky. Mike turned to look at Peter, who still looked pale and was now using the wall to hold himself up. Mike rushed by his side, just as his knees gave way under him. Another nurse came out the way the first nurse had come in and instructed both of them to follow her to another room. The police had followed them into the hospital now, but Mike didn't see Davy.

"We need to speak with them," the officer told the second nurse before they went into the back.

"These men are very ill," the second nurse said. "Can't it wait?"

"I'm afraid not," he said. "These men are all under arrest."

"What!?" Mike and Peter exclaimed.

"Well, they aren't going anywhere right now," the nurse said.

"Did you arrest Davy?" Mike asked.

"Yes, he's being taken down to the jail right now," the officer answered.

"You can't do that!" Peter exclaimed. "We did nothing wrong!"

"You were speeding for starters," the cop said scathingly, "and you opened fire in a busy street. Not to mention hitting two people with your vehicle."

"They were trying to kill us!" Peter exclaimed. Mike could tell it was taking a lot out of Peter, so he tried to calm Peter down.

"Peter, relax," Mike said. "We'll get this all straightened out soon enough. In the meantime, you need to be seen by the doctor."

"So do you," Peter answered.

"Yes, you both do," the nurse said. "So come with me and we'll get you both taken care of. You can wait here officer and speak to them when the doctor tells you it's ok."

"But-" the cop started.

"But nothing!" she exclaimed with an angry look at the doctor. "This man is getting blood all over my floor and he looks like he's about to pass out. If you don't let the doctors take care of him, you'll be arresting a dead man. As for the other man, he looks just as weak, so if you argue with me one more time, I will ask you to leave and come back when they are better." The nurse led Mike and Peter through the doors Micky had gone through and into two separate rooms for each of them. Mike almost argued that he didn't want to leave Peter either, but the nurse looked at him with the same look she had given the cop. So in order to avoid the wrath she'd unleashed on the cop, he sat down quietly on the bed as she instructed. He didn't even realize how much had been taken out of him until he sat down. A doctor came in a moment later to assess Mike's condition.

"What's your name, son?" the doctor asked as a new nurse came in and started hooking Mike up to a blood pressure machine and a heart rate monitor.

"Mike Nesmith," Mike answered. "My other friends are Peter Tork and Micky Dolenz. Peter's the blonde one."

"Alright, can you tell us exactly what happened to you and your friends?" the doctor asked. "It seems Mr. Tork has fallen unconscious and Mr. Dolenz is being taken to surgery. We need information from you on their injuries to help them."

"Micky was stabbed and beaten," Mike answered again with a pang of guilt; the fact that Micky was immediately whisked off to surgery hit Mike like a ton of bricks. "I don't know the extent of how bad he was beaten; I wasn't there. But Peter and I have concussions. I hit my head on the steering wheel of my car pretty hard and was knocked around after that. Peter was hit a few times pretty hard and passed out, and then he fell out of the vehicle we were in just now when he got shot at. He said the bullet nicked him."

"The men who beat you and your friends," the nurse asked. "Are they the ones you were shooting at and hit with a dune buggy?"

"Yes," Mike answered. "We rescued Micky and they started chasing us. Please tell the police it was all in self-defense so they can let my other friend go."

"We'll tell them what you said and about your injuries once they are fully assessed, but they won't let your friend go without proof," the doctor said.

"What kind of proof?" Mike asked.

"We'll worry about that later," the doctor said. "I'm going to send you up to get some images of your brain after your friend. Then I want you to just worry about resting while we treat your friends. Once your wounds heal, then we can worry about the police."

"But what about Davy?" Mike asked.

"There's nothing you can do right now," the nurse said. "We will do what we can, but I think your friend would want you to worry about yourself before him."

"Now just relax, Mr. Nesmith," the doctor said. "We'll take care of your friends and give you something to help you ease the pain." Within the next couple hours, Mike had undergone several tests and was given several medications. He wasn't able to see Micky or Peter and hadn't received any news from the doctors about their conditions, but by the time they'd rolled him back to his room on his bed after doing the last test, he was so tired that he just fell asleep. His concern for his friends where overwhelming him, but they had given him medication to help him sleep insisting he needed plenty of rest.

* * *

"Where are they going?" an officer barked at Davy as Mike carried Peter in the doors of the hospital. Davy wanted desperately to follow them, but he knew someone had to stay outside to deal with the police and since he was the only uninjured one of the group, the task fell to him. So he reluctantly turned to face the cops and tried to force his mind to focus on anything but his injured friends.

"You there!" another officer yelled as he followed Mike and the others into the hospital. "Stop!"

"They need help," Davy answered. "They're hurt really bad. I'm sorry I was speeding officer, but my friend was dying and he needed a hospital."

"Sure," the officer said sardonically. "Turn around and place your hands on the hood of your vehicle."

"Why?" Davy asked. "You can't arrest me for speeding! Just give me a ticket!"

"You did a lot more than that, young man," the officer sneered. "You're under arrest for assault and attempted murder."

"You must be joking!" Davy exclaimed.

"Put your hands on the hood," the officer spat placing a hand on his gun getting ready to draw it. "Or you'll see how much of a joker I am, kid." Davy felt it best not to argue any further right now and to just do what he was told. He placed his hands on the hood of the buggy, and the officer moved to put handcuffs on him.

"I swear I didn't do anything," Davy protested. "The people I hit were trying to kill us. If you go in and see my friends and their wounds, you'll know I'm telling the truth! They were beating my friend and we rescued him so they started chasing us! I only hit them with the buggy to stop them from hurting us!"

"Where's the gun?" he asked as he started searching Davy.

"I don't have it," Davy answered. "My friend Peter does. He shot at them to save us. I swear to you."

"Yeah, everyone is innocent, kid," the officer sneered dragging Davy to his patrol car and shoving him unceremoniously into the back.

"This is crazy!" Davy exclaimed. "Please, you have to believe me!" The officer wasn't listening to him. Davy spent the whole ride to the police station fruitlessly asserting his innocence. When he'd reached the police station, the officer led him into a tiny dark room with 3 chairs and a table. He pushed Davy into one of the chairs and left.

His mind was filled with images of his friends injured as he now had nothing else to preoccupy his mind. He was close to losing it as he began shaking with worry and grief. He could tell by the amount of blood coupled with Mike's pleading and strangled sobs that Micky was in serious condition. He could swear he no longer saw his friend breathing when he'd left them at the hospital. Mike hadn't been showing that many signs of his own injury when Davy had left, but Davy knew that was just a symptom of the adrenaline; he would come crashing down soon and Davy desperately wanted to be there when it happened so he could help pull his friend out of it. Peter was in worse condition after having been shot and fallen out of the car. Even though he swore that they had only nicked him, Peter was bleeding a lot from his arm. Not to mention taking a fall to the ground didn't exactly help his concussion any. He'd seen the fresh blood seep out of his friend's ear and knew that Peter was fighting to stay level minded and clear for Micky.

If Micky died because of any of this, Davy would never be able to forgive himself. It had been _his_ choice to leave Micky behind at the warehouse after _his_ mother had found and attacked them. Then it had been his choice to wait until Peter and Mike had healed better to launch a rescue mission for Micky. Even though his rational brain told him that none of this was his fault, his heart told him something completely different. He tried to convince himself that he had done the right thing by having Mike and Peter heal before launching a rescue mission, as it probably would have failed much more miserably if he hadn't, but in his irrational state, all he could think of was the amount of blood they'd seen on the floor beneath Micky and the fact that he was motionless and still when Davy had last seen him. He needed to see his friends; to know they were ok. That would be the only thing to keep him sane at this point. But seeing as how he was handcuffed in a police station, that didn't appear to be happening any time soon. Davy stayed in the dark room for what seemed like an hour before two other officers came in.

"I'm Detective Oliver Munch," one of the officers who'd finally walked in said. "This is my partner Ella Benson."

"I didn't hurt anyone!" Davy protested immediately. "Well, I did, but I only did it to save my friends. Please, they were trying to kill us. Check with the hospital. They'll tell you my friends are hurt really bad. The people I hit with the buggy were the ones who hurt us."

"We have checked with the doctors at the hospital," Detective Benson said. "They do have injuries consisted with being assaulted."

"Are they ok?" Davy asked.

"Several witnesses said they saw you open fire on the car chasing you," Detective Benson said ignoring Davy's question. "You need to account for that."

"They were chasing us!" Davy exclaimed. "They were trying to ram us off the road!"

"You were also seen stealing a vehicle," Detective Munch said. Davy sighed and buried his face in his hands.

"Look, it all started when my friend Peter's sister came to town," Davy said. "She's pregnant and her family is trying to kill her because they are part of a crime family and she wanted to leave the family business. So then they tried killing us because we were helping her. Then my other friend Micky discovered he had a sister who was being abused by their parents, so he kidnapped her to save her. Mike and Peter got into an accident while being chased by Peter's mom and got hurt really bad. We decided to hide in this abandoned warehouse, but my psychotic mother decided to show up and try and kill me even though you had already arrested her for assaulting my friend Micky. Because of that, we had to split up and Mike and Micky got captured and tortured by Peter's parents, and Peter and I got captured by Micky's parents trying to find their daughter. Micky's parents beat up Peter but we managed to escape, but we had to steal a car to do it. If we hadn't they would have killed us. Mike and Micky were being tortured by Peter's parents to find out where Peter's sister was, but they didn't give them any information. So they decided to tell Mike that he had 24 hours to find Peter and his sister so they could kill them or they'd kill Micky. We rescued Micky and escaped in the buggy, but they started chasing us. That's when we had to shoot them."

"That's a really interesting story," Detective Benson said. "You expect us to believe all that?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's true!" Davy exclaimed.

"The people you hit told a different story," she said.

"Well of course they would!" Davy said. "They don't want to get in trouble!"

"Well, their story isn't as farfetched as yours," she said.

"Well, one of those people is Mike's dad, Vern Nesmith," Davy tried. "He was arrested and tried for killing Mike's mother and he threatened to kill Mike in open court just because he testified. That has to count for something! I don't have a criminal record and he does!"

"Yes, but his conviction was overturned, so at this point he's still innocent until proven guilty," Detective Benson said.

"Argh!" Davy yelled, "Innocent my behind! He hurt Mike and Micky! He tried to run us off the road!"

"Calm down, young man," Detective Munch said. "We can't jump to conclusions. We have to get proof to back up your claims or the claims of the other two."

"Are you going to let them go?" Davy asked.

"No, they are at the hospital with your friends," Detective Munch answered. "All five will be under surveillance to make sure they don't leave until this is sorted out."

"Can I see them?" Davy asked. "My friends? I don't even know if they're all ok."

"I'm afraid not," Detective Munch said. "We have to investigate further and until then you have to stay here."

"Well, can you at least tell me if they're ok or not?" Davy asked.

"They are being tended to by some of the best doctors in the country," Detective Benson said. "Where did all of these attacks take place?"

"Our house and the warehouse and some run-down motel," Davy answered. Detective Munch slid a paper and pen across the table to Davy and Detective Benson moved to take the handcuffs off Davy.

"Write the addresses down," he instructed. Davy did as he was instructed and gave the paper back to the detectives.

"We'll check these places out," Detective Munch said. "If we find evidence to back up your story, we'll pass it on to the prosecutor. It'll be up to them to decide whether or not to charge you. In the meantime, write down a copy of your story with as much detail as you can remember. This information will be used in helping decide what to charge you and your friends with; if anything." Davy spent the next several hours writing down everything he could think of and worrying about his friends.


	20. Wired

Author's Note: Ponderoso, yes, I got the names for the detectives from SVU. It's another one of my fave shows and a show I've written other fanfic for in the past. They aren't the same characters, but I like to use names from other stuff I like. If you remember, I had a detective Stabler during Mike's courtroom dream. :D

Chapter 20: Wired

Davy sat in the dark room in the police station for what seemed like forever. He was starting to go a little crazy. He'd long since finished writing out his statement of what had happened over the last several days and had even gone over it several times to make sure he hadn't left anything out. But now all he had to focus on was the dilemma facing himself and his friends. He still hadn't been able to find out if they were ok or not. And since that was all he could think about, his mind raced feverishly with possibilities of what could have happened. Not to mention his friends had no idea what had happened to him, so even if they were ok, they'd be worried sick about him. Davy jumped a little when the door opened and the two detectives walked back in.

"Well?" Davy asked. "Do you believe me now?"

"It's not that we didn't believe you before, Mr. Jones," Detective Munch said. "We just had to verify information first."

"Sure seemed like you didn't believe me," Davy answered.

"A lot of cops don't believe your story," Detective Benson answered. "But we do. I have a friend in the FBI who has been looking into the Tork family for years, but he hasn't been able to get anything to stick."

"That's because they keep bribing or blackmailing their way out of trouble," Detective Munch added. "Or evidence just plain…disappears. And what worries me is that they'll be able to do the same here."

"So we need as much from you as we can, as well as their cooperation so we needed to make it seem as though we believe them over you," Detective Benson said. "We have a forensics team sweeping your house, the warehouse and the motel you told us about. So far we came up short."

"Was anyone at the house?" Davy asked. "Peter's brother was there and he got knocked out."

"No, the house was empty I'm afraid," Detective Munch answered. "The only ones we have a trace on right now are Mrs. Tork and Mr. Nesmith. And he wasn't supposed to leave Texas until the re-trial for the murder of his wife, so his bail has been revoked and he's going to be shipped back to Texas in handcuffs."

"Good," Davy said.

"We need a few things from you and your friends if we're going to make any charges stick," Detective Benson said.

"Anything," Davy answered.

"We want to put a wire on you and let you go," Detective Munch said. "We'll also let her go and let it slip where you are. She should follow you there and whatever she says will be recorded."

"What if she kills me?" Davy asked. "She wants to kill me."

"Yes, that's why we want you to wear the wire," Detective Benson said. "And Detective Munch and I will be right there witnessing everything, so we'll stop her before she even gets a chance to lay a finger on you."

"If you can get her to say as many things as you can to incriminate herself before we arrest her, that would be even better," Detective Munch said. "But we are only going to do this with your consent."

"What about my friends?" Davy asked. "What if she tries to go after them instead of me?"

"I doubt she'll do that," Detective Benson said. "She knows they are at the hospital and they're guarded. You'll be an easier target."

"She'll try and use you to get to what she really wants," Detective Munch said. "Which, according to your story, is her daughter and her son."

"So all we have to do is let it slip that you are going to check on her daughter somewhere and she should follow you," Detective Benson added.

"Like a lamb to the slaughter," Detective Munch said. Davy stared at him for a second. "Figuratively speaking anyway."

"Do you want to go through with this?" Detective Benson asked with a laugh in Detective Munch's direction.

"You're sure my friends are going to be safe?" Davy asked.

"There are two officers stationed outside Peter's room and two more outside Mike's," Detective Benson said.

"What about Micky?" Davy asked fear gripping him when they failed to mention Micky.

"I'm afraid we don't have any information on him," Detective Munch said. "Last we heard, Mike and Peter were sleeping and recovering from concussions and lacerations, but Micky is still in surgery. We don't know any more than that right now. But if he comes out of surgery, we will post two officers outside his room as well."

"When," Davy corrected firmly. "_When_ he comes out of surgery." Detectives Benson and Munch looked at Davy with pity in their eyes.

"Yes, 'when'," Detective Munch answered trying to offer a comforting smile to Davy. Davy's heart sank a little. Did they know something about Micky they weren't telling him? Was there a chance Micky wouldn't make it out of surgery? And if he was still in surgery, he'd been in there for hours already; surely that wasn't a good thing. He forced himself to focus his mind on what the detectives wanted him to do. There was no way he was going to let these people get away with what they had done to his friends. He would do everything he could to make sure they got what was coming to them. He would do everything he could to make sure they went to jail; whether Micky was alive to see justice or not.

"I'll do whatever you need me to," Davy answered.

"Just sign this waiver," Detective Benson said sliding a paper across the table to Davy. He looked it over and realized it was a waiver of liability in case of injury or death. "Don't worry; it's a formality. We won't let anything happen to you. We'll be right there behind you." Davy didn't really care that much, anyway. He would do whatever it took to make sure his friends stayed safe now. He signed the document and passed it back to the detectives.

"Alright," Detective Munch said. "What we're going to do stand next to the interview room she is in and make sure the door is open a crack so she can overhear us talking. We'll say that we had no choice but to set you free for lack of evidence and that you went to a cabin on the mountain north of here off Zuma road. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes," Davy answered. "But how do I get there? I don't have a vehicle anymore."

"Yes, that dune buggy is not street legal, but there's a car waiting for you out front," Detective Munch answered. "It's already wired and has a camera in it as well. Try and park the car so it's facing the road. The camera is on the dash pointing forward."

"Got it," Davy answered as he took a set of car keys from the detective. Then the two detectives went to retrieve the wire he would wear. When they came back, they instructed him to take off his shirt so they could tape it to his chest. He felt very uncomfortable being shirtless and having two strange sets of hands touching him, but what was more uncomfortable was the tape they used. He was just glad that he didn't really have any hair on his chest knowing how much worse it could be. Once they'd fixed the wire to him firmly, he made his way out of the police station toward the car that was waiting for him out front and drove off to the cabin. The whole drive there, he was silently praying that this worked.

When he got there, he silently waited a few moments until he heard a car coming up the dirt road leading to the cabin. From the sound of it, the car was moving at quite a fast rate of speed, leaving no doubt who it was in Davy's mind. As he got out of the car, he saw a rustling in the bushes nearby and assumed that it was one, if not both, of the detectives who swore they'd be right there to keep him safe. Thinking of Mike, Peter and Micky and all that they'd done for him over the years, he summoned up all the strength and courage he had and started walking towards the cabin. Sure enough, a second later, the car that had been chasing him and his friends earlier rounded the corner at a very high rate of speed. Once Peter's mother realized she'd found Davy, she slammed on the brakes causing a cloud of smoke and dirt to rise up in Davy's face. He coughed and tried to wave it away, but there was too much.

"How did you find me?!" Davy exclaimed trying to play along as she got out of the car. She advanced toward him, but he backed away.

"Never mind that," she answered. "You cost me my chance at my son. But you've led me right to my daughter."

"Are you going to kill her?" Davy asked.

"She doesn't exactly leave me much of an option, now does she?" she sneered.

"Sure, you could turn around and go home and forget all about this," Davy offered, though he highly doubted she would ever do that.

"You're an idiot," she spat. "No wonder you're friends with Peter." She was now only a few feet away from Davy and he wanted to try and push one last confession out of her.

"I'm friends with Peter because he's a much better person than you are," Davy spat letting the rage boil inside him he'd been trying to suppress to keep himself calm and collected. "He's honest and caring and he doesn't go around stabbing and torturing people! You kidnapped and stabbed my best friend just to find your daughter who wasn't even going to say a word against you. You hurt innocent people just so you could get revenge? You are a downright evil person and I'm glad Peter ended up nothing like you!"

"Actually, I didn't stab your friend," she said with a sick smile. "Percy did, but I have no issues killing you right now." And with that she lunged for Davy who quickly ducked and tried to roll out of the way. He heard twigs popping and leaves crunching as Detectives Benson and Munch emerged from the bushes with their guns drawn and pointed at Peter's mom. Davy ran as they shouted at her to freeze and that she was under arrest, but she grabbed Davy by the back of the shirt and threw him to the ground. He landed in a mud puddle and slipped down the side of the cliff. He tried to reach out for a branch or rock or something, but nothing helped. He tumbled all the way down and hit his head on an exposed tree root at the bottom. Now it was his turn to have his world fill with darkness.

_Davy sat on his bed in his room reading a book for English class. It wasn't a very interesting book, but Davy had to read 2 chapters for school the next morning, so there he sat. He was halfway through the first chapter, when he heard a familiar sound down the hallway: his mother throwing up in the toilet. He rolled his eyes and turned on the some music to block out the noise. He was able to sit there for another hour reading and listening to his music before he was interrupted again. This time it was a loud pounding on his door. He jumped at the loud noise and looked at the door to see it actually shaking in the frame; any harder, and the person would have busted right through the door._

"_Turn that racquet down, boy, and get out here!" he heard his father yell through the door. He must have just come home after having been out. Davy sighed and turned his radio off before opening the door. _

"_What?" Davy asked a little more spitefully than he'd intended. _

"_What!?" his father echoed. "Where's your mother, that's what!?"_

"_I don't know," Davy answered. "She was home an hour ago, but I'm not exactly her keeper." Davy was about to say it was supposed to be the other way around, but bit his tongue when he saw his father rear his arm back ready to strike him. For some reason, however, he didn't. He seemed to force himself to relax and put his arm back down. _

"_Get out here," his father barked. "There's someone I want you to meet." Davy followed his father into the living room and saw a man sitting on their couch with a briefcase sitting on his lap. The man looked very uncomfortable. At that moment, his mother walked out of the hallway looking very disheveled and unkempt. Or rather stumbled. She shoved a handful of money into her back pocket. A very happy looking man followed her out and when he saw the other men in the house, darted out as fast as he could. Once again, Davy rolled his eyes. _

"_Oh, hello," his mother said when she saw the stranger on the couch. "Was that meeting today?"_

"_Yes, Brittany," Davy's father barked. "I told you twice this morning and three times last night."_

"_Is this the boy?" the man asked looking at Davy. _

"_Yes," his father answered ignoring his mother now. "What do you think?"_

"_He is still very small, isn't he," the man said inspecting Davy like a piece of meat. _

"_I'm not that small!" Davy protested even though he was very unsure why this man was inspecting him like this. _

"_Hush, boy," his father barked. _

"_You are just small enough to fit in the tight spaces I need you in, boy," the man said. Davy was taken aback. What was this man talking about?_

"_So how much you want for him?" his mother asked. _

"_Wait, what?" Davy asked. "Are you trying to sell me to this man?! You must be joking!"_

"_Shut up!" his father barked at Davy and this time he did hit Davy so hard across the face that Davy fell to the ground. _

"_Now, now," the man said. "I don't pay for anything broken."_

"_You're seriously trying to sell me to this man?" Davy sputtered on the ground holding his cheek. He was so livid with his parents he didn't care what he was saying. _

"_We aren't trying to sell you, idiot," his mother sneered at him. "You're going to work for him."_

"_You just asked him how much I was worth!" Davy yelled. _

"_Yes, you aren't going to work for free," his father snapped. _

"_Oh heaven forbid I do manual labor for free," Davy spat icily. "But I won't be the one being paid. You will."_

"_You are underage," his mother said. "What are you going to do with the money anyway?"_

"_Well, I'm certainly not going to let you buy beer and drugs with money I earn!" Davy yelled and pushed himself off the ground before racing for the door. He didn't make it far down the hallway before his father grabbed him by the back of the shirt and yanked him up off his feet. _

"_Where do you think you're going, you little-" his father bellowed but was cut off by a new voice. _

"_Put the boy down!" someone ordered. Davy and his father looked around in confusion and saw a swarm of men coming toward them with guns and police badges around their necks or clipped to their belts. Davy had never been more relieved to see a group of police officers in his life. "Police! Put the boy down now!" Davy's father immediately let go and put his hands in the air. Davy tumbled to the ground, but didn't wait for what would happen next; he took off running towards the group of officers. One of them holstered her gun and picked Davy up and carried him off to a waiting ambulance. _

"_The mother and broker are in the house," Davy heard one of the other officers say as Davy was carried away. "Arrest them and anyone else you find in there."_

"_Are you alright, son?" the female police officer who'd grabbed him asked him when she placed him in the back of the ambulance. _

"_Fine," Davy said. "What's going on?"_

"_We are arresting your parents," she answered. _

"_I got that, but why?" Davy asked. "I mean, why now? My parents have been drunks and drug addicts my whole life? Why now?"_

"_We received a tip that your parents were trying to do something bad to you," she answered. _

"_You mean sell me to that man?" Davy asked. "How did you find out about that? I didn't even know about that until just now."_

"_We got a tip from someone who heard negotiations between him and your father," she answered. "We have plenty of evidence to charge them with labor trafficking. You don't have to worry about anything now."_

"_What's going to happen to me?" Davy asked. _

"_We're going to try and contact some family and see if they can take you until we figure out a permanent solution."_

"_My grandfather. He's been trying for years to take me away. Call him." Davy gave the officer his grandfather's contact information and waited while she called him. He absently rubbed a sore spot on his face where his father had hit him until the cop came back. _

"_Alright, I got a hold of your grandfather and he's going to meet you at the hospital," she said. _

"_I'm fine," Davy argued. "I don't need a hospital." _

"_Standard procedure, honey," she said. "You've got a nice bruise developing on your face and your father was just holding you about 3 feet in the air. We just need to make sure everything is ok." Davy finally relented and let them take him to the hospital where he spent about 2 hours being fussed over by doctors and nurses. His grandfather came in a couple hours after he got there and Davy and his grandfather shared a hug that seemed to last forever. It made Davy finally feel at ease and safe and he didn't want to let go. _

"_How are you, son?" his grandfather asked. _

"_I'm fine, Grandpa," Davy answered. "Did they tell you what happened?"_

"_Yes," he answered. "I'm so sorry, David."_

"_It's not your fault," Davy answered. "Don't be sorry. But what happens now?"_

"_Now you're going to come live with me," his grandfather answered. "The officer in charge of the case has already started the paperwork for me to officially become your guardian. Once they medically clear you from here, I'll be taking you home."_

"_And what happens to Mom and Dad?" Davy asked. _

"_They're going to jail," his grandfather answered. "I don't know for how long. The prosecutor on the case has to decide what to charge them with based upon the evidence and then file charges. But because of what they did, they lost custody of you."_

"_So I'm going to live with you from now on?" Davy asked cheerfully. Finally he wouldn't have to worry about coming home and finding his parents passed out or anything like that. He could finally live his life happily. _

"_You can live with me as long as you want, David," his grandfather answered with a smile. For the first time in his life, Davy finally felt safe and happy. And truly loved. _


	21. Finally Resting

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. I got stuck a little on another fic and a lot on this one and there were a lot of chapters posted to the other fics I follow too (Crystal Rose, MonkeeMidgie, Plush Chrome and AL McFarlane all posted in a matter of a few days! AH! Curses! And darn Plushie posted 3 chapters in a few days! Must read!) Still haven't read them all, but I plan to soon!

Chapter 21: Finally Resting

Mike groaned a little as he started waking up; his head hurt really badly. It was the worst headache he'd ever had in his entire life. It felt like dozens of little jackhammers were drilling on his head from the inside out. He tried to reach up to clutch his head in a vain attempt at easing the pain, but realized his arm was caught on something. That's when he remembered he was in the hospital and there was an IV in one arm and a blood pressure cuff on the other. He thought he heard someone calling out to him, but his head was swimming in so much pain that all he heard were his own groans and the blood pounding against his temples. After a minute, he was able to feel that someone was touching him, but strangely he couldn't tell where. He tried to open his eyes, but as soon as he did, the light in the room drove through his brain like a spear and he jerked them shut again with another wince of pain.

He tried to figure out why he wasn't in this much pain earlier when he was trying to save Micky before finally remembering that Davy had given him pain killers in the abandoned lifeguard station. That coupled with the adrenaline of working hard to save Micky must have allowed him to ignore the pain coursing through him. His body felt sore and incredibly stiff too. He heard another voice but couldn't make out who it was or what it was saying. After a minute or two, the pain started to die down and he realized that whoever was touching him was clutching his hand tightly as if he would float away if they let go. He could hear a little better with each passing second and could finally make out a female voice speaking very soothingly to him.

"You should be fine now, Michael," she said. "I gave you another dose of a very strong pain killer. It takes a few moments for it to work, but you should be ok now. I'll get the doctor and let her know you're awake."

"Thank you," Mike said somewhat hoarsely. "Where are my friends?"

"I'm right here, Mike," answered the first voice that had been in the room. Now he recognized it as Davy's and he smiled. Last thing he knew, Davy had been arrested, and since he was now sitting here next to him and holding his hand as if it were a lifeline, that meant he'd been cleared of all charges.

"Davy," Mike said.

"Glad you're awake, Mike," Davy answered. "But take it easy, ok? Don't rush yourself." He was finally able to look at his friend with minimal pain in his head and realized Davy had a bandage above his eye.

"What happened?" Mike asked.

"Oh, nothing much," Davy said touching the bandage. "Just bumped my head a little trying to get evidence against Peter's mother."

"What?" Mike asked confused. "Start from the beginning. They told us you got arrested."

"I did," Davy answered. "But they dropped the charges when they realized that I only hit Peter's mom and your dad with the buggy because they were trying to kill us. They were trying to claim it was the other way around."

"Yeah, right. My father threatened to kill me in open court. In front of dozens of witnesses, including cops, judges and lawyers."

"That's what I said. But that's also why they believed me. They said they'd been trying to get evidence against Peter's family for years, but it keeps "disappearing". So they asked me to wear a wire and let her confront and try and kill me."

"Please tell me you didn't."

"I had to, Mike. They didn't have enough evidence to charge her with anything. I got her to say in front of other cops hiding in the bushes and on wire that she was going to kill Peter and Patty and that Percy stabbed Micky and that she was going to kill me. Then she lunged for me and I tried to duck out of the way, but she grabbed me and threw me to the ground. I slipped and fell down a cliff; scraped myself up and bumped my head, but otherwise ok."

"What!? Why didn't the cops stop her?"

"I let her get too close to me to begin with. They tried, but they were too far away. But I'm ok, Mike. I got checked out by the doctors here and they said I'm fine. Just a few bumps and bruises. They already cleared me to leave, but I told them I'm staying here with you guys."

"Davy, you shouldn't have done that," Mike admonished, although he knew he would have done the exact same thing. "She could have killed you."

"But she didn't," Davy said. "They're sending your father back to Texas. I guess he wasn't supposed to leave Texas while they were preparing for a re-trial. They'll be sending him back tomorrow and he'll go straight to a prison in Texas. Percy and the others got away, though."

"What about Peter and Micky?" Mike asked. "Are they ok?"

"Peter's going to be fine," Davy answered. "He needs a lot more rest than you and I've been bouncing back and forth between your room and his for about an hour now since they cleared me. You both have cracked skulls, but his is cracked in a two places and his swelling is worse. They said he also fractured his knee when he fell out of the buggy and the bullet tore a chunk out of his arm. But they said he's going to be fine with medications to reduce the swelling in his brain and his knee and arm will heal with time. You're swelling will go down, too."

"And Micky?" Mike asked when Davy fell silent.

"I don't know," Davy said his eyes starting to swell with tears. "They won't tell me much. Just that he was barely alive when we brought him in here and he had some pretty bad internal damage. They've had him in surgery for about 8 hours now."

"Can they do that?" Mike asked his stomach in knots. "8 hours; is that even safe to have someone in surgery that long?"

"I would assume so, otherwise they wouldn't be doing it," Davy answered. "But that also means they have a lot to do."

"I shouldn't have sent Percy on that wild goose chase," Mike said staring at the ceiling tiles. "I shouldn't have let my anger get the best of me. He wouldn't have hurt Micky if I hadn't attacked him like that." He felt his heart breaking in his chest; Micky was almost dead and it was his fault.

"Shut up, Michael," Davy said so sternly Mike recoiled in shock a little. Davy had never spoken to him like that, nor had he ever really called him "Michael" before. "Don't you dare say another word like that ever again. I don't even want to hear that what's happening to Micky or me or Peter is anyone's fault other than the people who attacked us. This isn't your fault; it's not mine; it's not Micky's; and it's not Peter's. And I will tell Peter that, too. And **when** Micky comes out of surgery **and** wakes up, I will tell him that, too. This is their fault. _Not ours_. You did what you had to do to save Patty and Peter and me and Marcy. _You_ came up with the plan to storm in the house and save Micky. If not for _you_, Micky **would** be dead. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah, buddy," Mike said smiling at Davy. He knew Davy was right, but that did nothing to ease the pain he felt. "Thanks. What about Patty and Marcy?"

"I told the detectives where they are and they are going to put them in hiding for a while," Davy answered. Mike was about to argue that could have been a bad idea when he remembered that Percy had told him he had friends in the police force, but Davy already picked up on this. "They went there alone so as not to tip off anyone in the police force who might be working with Peter's parents. I trust the two detectives." The door opened and a young female doctor walked in followed by what Mike assumed was the nurse who'd given him the pain medication.

"Hello, Mr. Nesmith," the doctor said. "I'm Dr. Warner. How are you feeling?"

"Better with the pain meds," Mike answered. "And please call me 'Mike'. Do you know how my other friends are doing? Micky and Peter?"

"Your friend Peter is doing much better," Dr. Warner answered. "His swelling finally started to come down a few hours ago."

"What about Micky?" Mike asked.

"I haven't heard anything yet," she answered. "He's in pretty critical condition. It's a miracle he's even still alive."

"But he's gonna be ok, right?" Davy asked fearfully.

"It's too early to tell," Dr. Warner answered. "If he does survive, he will have a long, hard road of recovery ahead of him. I will tell you when I know anything." Dr. Warner spent the next several minutes checking Mike's condition. "You're healing quite nicely, Mike. I think you'll be ready to go home in a week."

"Can I see Peter?" Mike asked as she turned to leave.

"He's still asleep," she answered, "and I don't want you leaving that bed right now. You need to stay put and get plenty of rest. Just because you're healing nicely, doesn't mean you can get up and start moving around." Mike relented at her insistence and the look Davy shot him daring Mike to challenge the nurse. He really wanted to see Peter, but whenever he tried to move, his head spun. So instead, he sat there with Davy for a few hours playing a card game or just randomly talking. After a while, he started to drift back to sleep; his mind at least partially at ease knowing Davy would not be prosecuted for a crime he didn't commit and that Peter was going to be ok. His only worry now was Micky.

_Mike sat on the playground with his brown paper bag. He opened it and saw a peanut butter and jelly sandwich inside with an apple. It was really the only thing they could afford. He liked them well enough at first, but then they had started getting old. Eating the same thing day after day. But he was starting to get to a point where it wasn't so boring anymore. Mostly because he had made a friend and they usually traded or shared their meals. Her name was Melinda and she would usually get bologna and a banana from her grandparents, who weren't much better off financially than Mike and his mom. He waited for her quietly on the bench; her class was farther from the playground than his, so it took her longer. She was a grade above him being in 5__th__ grade, but that never mattered to him. _

_He looked up, however, when he saw a commotion by the swings. He quickly realized that a group of kids had gathered around to gawk at something. They started laughing and Mike decided he needed to check out what was going on. Melinda usually passed by the swings on her way from class, and she usually got teased a lot. And he had a bad feeling they were laughing at her. Sure enough when he drew closer, he saw her standing in the center between several other boys who were laughing at her. Tears were streaming down her face and she had fallen on the ground to her knees. _

"_You're such a loser!" one of the boys yelled with a laugh. _

"_No I'm not!" she cried. _

"_You have no parents!" another boy yelled. "You probably drove them away with your dorkiness!"_

"_Stop that!" Mike yelled. _

"_Yeah?" the biggest boy said turning on Mike. "Whatcha gonna do to make me, twig?"_

"_Don't call me a twig," Mike spat clenching his fists. "And you know darn well her parents died, so why don't you leave her alone?!"_

"_You are a twig!" another boy shouted. "What's the matter, mama so stupid that she can't afford to feed you enough?" The crowd erupted in laughter and Mike's anger exploded in him. This kind of thing happened on a regular basis, but they'd never insulted his mother before. They teased him for not having a father and they teased Melinda for not having either parent. One of the most important lessons Mike had ever learned in school was just how cruel and uncaring kids could be. He usually just yelled back at them before walking away, but this time, his anger got the better of him. He launched himself at the kid who'd insulted him with his fist as tight as he could make it. He felt the boy's nose crack under his balled up fist, but didn't care. He knocked the boy to the ground and landed a couple more punches before the other boys even realized what was happening. Once they did, the biggest one grabbed Mike by the shirt and yanked him off, throwing him to the ground. Then the boys began kicking and punching Mike. He heard Melinda screaming at them to leave him alone, but it didn't stop. At least not until the principal came over. _

"_Enough!" she boomed. "All of you to my office! Now!" The boys stopped beating on Mike and Melinda rushed over to him. His whole body was sore and he couldn't really get up, so he just lay there. The boy Mike had punched had already gotten up and run off by now, supposedly to the nurse's office to mend his nose._

"_Mike, why did you do that?" Melinda asked. _

"_Not now, Melinda," the principal said bending down to pick Mike off the ground and carry him. "He needs the nurse. Come with me and tell me what happened." The principal was a kind and fair woman. Anytime she witnessed the teasing, she did what she could to put a stop to it, but Mike knew he wasn't going to get off easy for having thrown the first punch. Fighting was a major no-no in the school. _

"_Please, Ma'am," Melinda said. "It wasn't his fault. The other boys were teasing me again and calling me a loser. Mike tried to get them to stop but they turned on him. One of the boys said his mother was so stupid she couldn't afford to feed him and he just got angry. I know Mike didn't mean to hurt anyone."_

"_You mean Michael hit first?" the principal asked surprised; it wasn't exactly like Mike to be prone to violence. _

"_Yeah, but the other boys started attacking him after that," Melinda said running to open the door to the building for the principal. "Please, he didn't mean it! Don't punish him!"_

"_I'm sorry, Melinda, but the rules are clear," the principal said as they walked through the halls. "No fighting."_

"_What are you going to do?" Melinda asked. _

"_I don't know yet, but I'll have to call his mother," she answered. They had arrived at the door to the nurse's office now and Melinda rushed to open that door for her too. When the principal set Mike down on one of the beds, Mike saw the kid he'd punched had indeed run here and was sitting on one of the other beds clutching an ice pack to his nose, blood staining his shirt. _

"_This the other boy?" the nurse asked looking at Mike. _

"_Yes," the principal answered. "Is this the boy Michael hit?"_

"_He has a broken nose," the nurse answered. "I was just about to call his parents."_

"_I'll do that," the principal answered. "Seems he was bullying Michael and Melinda. And I still have a zero tolerance policy for that; broken nose or not."_

"_Yes, Ma'am," the nurse said now turning to tend to Mike. _

"_Can I stay here with Mike?" Melinda asked. _

"_You have to go back to class, Melinda," the principal answered. _

"_Please?" she begged. "He wouldn't have done any of this if it weren't for me. He was just trying to help me. Besides, I already have straight A's in class and I swear I'll do the make-up work for whatever I miss." The principal seemed to think it over for a moment, before finally relenting. _

"_Alright," she said. "But if I hear that either of you two boys started fighting again, verbally or physically, I'm suspending you both. Do you boys understand me?" Mike nodded in too much pain to really speak. The other boy nodded too, still clutching the ice pack to his nose. _

"_Mike, why did you do that?" Melinda asked him again after the nurse had closed the curtain separating the two beds so the boys couldn't even see each other. _

"_I don't know," Mike answered. It hurt a little to talk, but he figured he owed her. _

"_Oh, Mike," she sighed and gave him a hug, which hurt. The nurse busied herself over Mike and told him he was just badly bruised; she didn't suspect any broken bones, but he'd be sore for quite a while. She gave him an ice pack for several of the bruises and a Tylenol for the pain. It was an hour later when he heard the other boy's mother storm in, furious with what her son had done. _

"_What is the matter with you!?" she demanded when she threw the door open causing her son to jump in fright. The principal was right behind her. _

"_I-I-I" he stammered. _

"_I know I raised you better than this!" the woman continued past his fear. "How dare you make fun of someone for the death of their parents?! It's cruel, and you are not a cruel boy!"_

"_He punched me!" the boy tried to shift her anger towards Mike. Instinctively, Mike curled up a little trying to become even smaller. _

"_From what I heard, you deserved it!" she roared. "Bullying and teasing are bad enough, but you DO NOT make fun of someone for not having any parents! You are going to be grounded for a very long time, do you understand me!? The only time you'll get to see the light of day is when you go to school! And if you get into any more fights with anyone, you're going to wish all I'd done was ground you! I want you to apologize to these two and to the principal for what you've done!" She ripped back the curtain and Mike and Melinda both jumped. She looked so angry that Mike could almost see smoke blowing out her nose. _

"_I-I'm sorry, Michael," the boy said. "I'm sorry Melinda."_

"_I didn't believe that for a second!" the mother snapped. "You know what? You're going to write an essay explaining just what it was you did wrong and why you're sorry. And if I had any control over it, I'd make you read it in front of the whole school!"_

"_That actually sounds like a wonderful idea," the principal said. "I have been intending to hold a school assembly on the dangers of bullying anyway. Michael, I want you to participate, too. I understand why you hit him, but it was still wrong and you need to account for your actions, too."_

"_I know it was wrong, Ma'am," Mike answered. "And I am really sorry I did it. I don't really know why I did it. I just got really mad. I'll do the assembly. I'll do whatever you want me to."_

"_See?" the other boys mother hissed. "Now there's a boy who is repentant for what he did! You should be more like him rather than make fun of him! We're going home and you are spending the rest of the day in your bedroom! No TV, no radio, no nothing! Just sitting on your bed and thinking about what you've done!" With that she yanked him off the bed and directed him to walk out of the room. Mike tried to suppress a smile when the principal turned to look at him. _

"_I spoke to your mother and she is also on her way down to take you home," the principal said. "I'll speak to you later about what I want you to do at the assembly."_

"_Yes, Ma'am," Mike answered. When his mother arrived several minutes later, she was angry that he'd gotten into a fight, but she was more concerned about how hurt he was. When Melinda told her exactly what the boys had said, her anger diminished and she smiled at Mike. _

"_Don't worry about defending me, Michael," she said. "I know I'm not a perfect mother."_

"_Yes you are," Mike argued. _

"_No, I'm not," she said. "Please don't do anything like this again. If they make fun of you again, you turn and walk away. Understand?"_

"_Yes," Mike answered. He would come to participate in the assembly a week later reading an essay he'd written on why it was wrong to fight, no matter what the reason. The boy whose nose he'd broken had read his essay on why it was wrong to bully others. The boys didn't become friends, but they were more cordial to each other. Mike had overheard some of the boys saying they were surprised that Mike was even able to break a kid's nose. The bullying had stopped, but Mike got a feeling it was more because they were afraid of him. They didn't understand or believe that he really didn't want to hurt anyone else and he did feel really bad for having broken that kid's nose. All they seemed to care about was that he'd broken someone's nose in one punch that no one had seen coming, so they steered clear of Mike and Melinda from then on out. Until Mike moved a month later to a new school where they hadn't heard of Mike breaking some kid's nose._


	22. Life Lessons

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. Not been sleeping very well because I've been having some health issues. Hope you like it.

Chapter22: Life Lessons

_Peter walked with the other kids out to the playground. Or at least he pretended to. His parents were teaching him how to take what he wanted without getting caught, and he was really pretty good at it, but still, practice made perfect, so his parents encouraged him to keep doing it. His sister would normally be here with him, but she had taken ill earlier that week and was at home sick. Today was show and tell day in school and there were lots of really cool things that his classmates had brought. And since there was now no one in the classroom, he knew it would be the perfect time to sneak back in and take what he wanted. And there was something in particular that he'd seen and wanted. Earlier that day a kid named Alan who'd he'd been friendly with in the past had brought an old silver dollar in for show and tell. Peter wasn't really listening to him; he was too distracted by the shiny metal and realized it wasn't just a typical silver dollar: it was old and therefore much more valuable. _

_So he pretended to turn to go to the bathroom and waved to the teacher that he'd be out in a bit. As soon as he heard the noise of the class die down, he slipped back out and ran back to the classroom. He'd carefully slipped a crumpled piece of paper in the latch on the door so it wouldn't lock properly and he could just walk right in. The door automatically locked and was propped open while class was in session and closed and locked when the class was out. Once he'd walked in, he quickly dashed over to Alan's backpack and unzipped the pocket he'd seen Alan put the silver dollar in. He took it out and looked at it appreciatively before shoving it in his pocket and walking back out to the playground. As he did, he removed the paper so the door would lock behind him so as not to arouse the teacher's suspicion. _

_Once recess was over, the class all returned back to the classroom and sat around in a circle again. Alan went straight to his backpack to take out the silver dollar. Apparently, someone on the playground had wanted to get a closer look at it, so Alan was going to show him. Peter's stomach clenched; if Alan found it was missing, the teacher could very possibly order a search of the other students and if they found the silver dollar on Peter, he'd get in a lot of trouble. Suddenly he wished he could excuse himself to the bathroom so he could hide the coin somewhere. But before he could get a chance, Alan discovered the coin was missing. _

"_It's gone!" Alan exclaimed, his eyes starting to tear up. _

"_What is?" the teacher asked him. _

"_My silver dollar!" Alan answered. "It's gone! It was just here a minute ago!" _

"_Look harder, Alan," the teacher said. "It has to be there somewhere. The door was locked so no one was here while we were gone."_

"_It's not here!" Alan exclaimed now breaking down and sobbing. _

"_Maybe you just misplaced it," Peter suggested. _

"_No, I know I put it in here," he answered through sobs. "I would never just lose it! It was my grandma's! She gave it to me on my birthday a few days before she died! It's the most important thing to me!"_

"_Ok, Alan, calm down," the teacher said crossing over to him. "Let's look for it." They spent the next few minutes searching the backpack to no avail. Peter took that opportunity to quickly and quietly slip out and run to the room next door. It was an empty classroom that wasn't used, so he was able to hide the silver dollar in there. When he came back, the classroom was now being searched and no one had noticed that he had left. They spent the rest of the day searching the students and the classroom, but of course no one found anything. _

_Peter watched Alan the whole time, and slowly started to feel terrible for what he'd done. He realized that that silver dollar meant more to Alan than anything in the world; it was the last piece of his grandmother the boy had. His grandmother had given it to him for his birthday, just a week before she died, and that made this silver dollar worth more to Alan than any amount of money Peter could ever get for it. The longer they looked the more desperate and upset Alan became and the guiltier Peter felt. By the end of the day, the teacher gave up and dismissed the class. Peter snuck back into the room where he'd hidden the silver dollar and retrieved it before walking out to the playground. He walked slowly home thinking the whole time about what had just happened. _

_As he walked, he started looking at the world around him for the first time. To his surprise, there were a lot of people around him who were in pain. A man and a woman arguing on a street corner, him yelling at her and calling her names and her in tears. A ways down the road, a little kid was walking happily with an ice cream cone in his hand, but when it fell to the ground, he burst into tears. Peter had no idea that there were so many problems in the world. And today he'd added to them. He'd been the cause of someone else being in pain. He couldn't stand it anymore, so he turned around and started walking to where he knew Alan lived. He reached the boy's house a little before Alan did and saw him walking down the street towards his house looking incredibly miserable. Peter jogged over to him and stopped him in the middle of the sidewalk. _

"_Alan," Peter said. "Can I talk to you?"_

"_Hi, Peter," Alan answered sounding very sad and broken. The guilt was tearing Peter up inside and he felt sick to his stomach. _

"_I'm really, really sorry," Peter said. _

"_For what?" Alan asked. "It's not like you took my silver dollar. The teacher said I must have lost it on the playground."_

"_You didn't," Peter said. "I took it."_

"_What?" Alan asked stopping dead in his tracks. "Why would you do that?"_

"_I…it's really hard to explain," Peter said taking the coin from his pocket and giving it back to Alan. "I didn't know how much it meant to you. My whole family just steals things and it's never bothered anyone before."_

"_Yes it has, Peter," Alan said. "You've just never seen it before. Stealing is wrong. Someone always gets hurt."_

"_Yeah, I guess you're right," Peter said. "I never noticed how much pain there is in the world. I'm really sorry."_

"_I forgive you, Peter," Alan said. _

"_You do?"_

"_Yes, because you gave it back __**and**__ told me the truth. You could have just given it back. You could have kept it and said nothing. But you chose to give it back and come clean. That means a lot to me, Peter. Thank you. But promise me something."_

"_What?"_

"_You won't steal anything from anyone anymore."_

"_My whole family does it."_

"_Doesn't mean you have to. Do you believe stealing is wrong now?"_

"_Yes."_

"_So why should you do something you believe is wrong just because your family does it?"_

"_I don't know. They're my family and I love them and they love me."_

"_Well, if they love you, they won't make you do something you don't want to do."_

"_I guess you're right on that too."_

"_Why does your family steal things?"_

"_It's complicated."_

"_It's ok; you don't have to tell me. But I do want you to promise me that you won't steal anymore." Alan put the coin back into his backpack and smiled at Peter now. _

"_I promise." _

"_Wanna come over? My mom makes some really good mac 'n cheese."_

"_Really? You want to hang out with me after what I did?"_

"_Why not? Like I said, Peter, you gave it back and you told me the truth." Alan smiled at Peter now and Peter felt relaxed. For the first time in his life he felt like he'd done the right thing and he felt really good about it. He would keep his promise to Alan and over time, they would grow really close and be best friends._

Peter opened his eyes slowly. He wasn't exactly sure where he was at first, but then his memory stared coming back to him and he realized he was in the hospital. He remembered exactly why they were here, and tried to sit up and look around. He felt a tightness around his head and didn't make it very far when the room started spinning a bit. So he decided to just try and look around, hoping to find Mike, Davy, or Micky, but the room was empty. After about a minute the door opened and a young nurse walked in. She smiled at him when she saw he was awake.

"Hello, Mr. Tork," she said. "Glad to see you're finally awake. My name is Linda."

"Where are my friends?" Peter asked. She laughed a little.

"I should have guessed that would be the first thing out of your mouth," she answered. "Mike and Davy are in the room down the hall."

"Davy?" Peter asked suddenly scared. Davy hadn't been hurt before.

"Don't worry," she replied. "He's fine. They both are. Davy got hurt a little helping the police, but he's far better off than the rest of you. Mike has a small crack in his skull, but he'll heal with time. You on the other hand, have a couple fractures on your skull so we had to wrap your head in a bandage and we stitched your arm where the bullet grazed you. You also have a fractured knee, but other than that and a few scrapes and bruises you're fine. Your friend Micky is still in surgery. He's been in surgery for a little over 9 hours now."

"What?" Peter asked suddenly feeling very sick to his stomach. "Is he ok?"

"We don't know yet to be perfectly honest," she answered. "But I can promise you the men in there are some of the best surgeons in the world. Would you like me to let Davy come in and visit you?"

"Yes," Peter said. "What about Mike? Can I see him, too?"

"He shouldn't be getting up and moving around right now," she answered. "But I'll see what I can do." She left with one last comforting smile. He felt a little hope with the knowledge that some of the best surgeons were taking care of Micky, but only a little. The fact that he had been in surgery so long still ate at him. He knew full well it was his family that had put him in that spot. The door to his room opened several minutes later and Davy walked in with a smile at Peter. He almost ran over and gave Peter a hug as gently as he could.

"I'm so glad you're ok!" Davy said. Peter saw a bandage above his eye and asked what had happened. Davy told him the story of what had happened between him and Peter's mother. More guilt picked at Peter and he felt truly like he was going to throw up.

"Davy, you really shouldn't have done that," Peter said glumly.

"I know," Davy said. "Mike said the same thing. But I did it for you, Peter. I couldn't stand knowing that your family was still out there and able to hurt you."

"They still are," Peter said. "You risked your life just to get my mother behind bars."

"I don't care," Davy said. "She deserves to be punished for what she did to all of us. But I'm ok, Peter. And I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant putting the rest of them behind bars, too." Peter opened his mouth to argue again, but the door to his room opened again and the nurse came in wheeling a bed in to his room. Peter smiled when he realized Mike was on the bed, but only a little seeing the condition Mike was in.

"It'll be a little tight in here," the nurse said. "But I don't think you boys will mind the tight space."

"Not at all," Peter said.

"Glad you're doing ok, buddy," Mike said smiling at him.

"You too," Peter added. They spent the next hour just talking. Davy fully recounted to Peter that Mike's father would be sent back to Texas the next morning and go straight back to jail and about how the Detectives were going to put Marcy and Patty into a safe place. All three fell silent when the doctor came in later.

"Hello, Peter," she said. "I'm Doctor Warner. How are you feeling?"

"A little light-headed," Peter admitted. "The bandage feels a little tight on my head."

"I don't think the tightness is the bandage," she answered. "You have some brain swelling, so it's probably that. How do you feel otherwise?"

"Fine," Peter said.

"You're on some pretty strong pain meds, so just let the nurse know if you feel any pain and they can give you more," she said before she ran a few reflex tests on Peter. When she finished, she wrote a few things down on Peter's chart. Then she looked at each of them and took a deep breath. "Your friend is out of surgery. He was injured very badly and it was a struggle to keep him alive. He's got a little brain trauma and a cracked skull like you do as well as the stab wounds which we were able to stitch and his hand is broken. He also suffered a ruptured spleen which had to be repaired, a couple broken ribs which pierced one of his lungs, and an aortic dissection."

"What's that?" Davy asked.

"It means that there was a small tear in his heart," she answered. "He lost a lot of blood and there were a few times that his heart stopped while on the table. The doctors were able to get it started again, but it was very difficult which is why it took so long. They have stabilized him for the time being, but there is no way of telling what his prognosis is."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked surprised that his voice was so quiet and broken.

"There's no way to tell what kind of damage was done on his brain due to the heart stopping," she answered. "With no blood flow going to the brain, oxygen doesn't reach it and it can be damaged due to the lack of oxygen. Some people have no adverse effects, others…others never wake up again."

"You mean he may be in a coma forever?" Mike asked his voice as quiet and broken as Peter's.

"It's much too early to tell," she answered. "There's a range of possibilities. He may suffer minor brain damage for all we know. He's in very critical condition and we need to keep an eye on all his injuries so the stitches don't tear and start bleeding again. His lung collapsed and we need to make sure it can start working again. He has a long road of recovery ahead of him."

"Can I see him?" Davy asked.

"Not right now," she answered. "I made an exception here by allowing you boys to share a room because of the special circumstances, but Micky is in extremely critical condition. He is being moved to the Intensive Care Unit and won't be allowed visitors until we can get a better idea of his condition. We have a machine breathing for him right now until we can be sure his lung will even start working again. I'm very sorry. I will continue to update you as news becomes available on his condition, but you should know that you boys saved his life. If you hadn't gotten him here when you did, he would have died. At least take comfort in that."

"We understand," Mike said even though he sounded very dejected. "Thank you."

"I was also told to pass on some information about your sister," she added looking at Peter. "Detective Benson told me to let you know that both women are safe and in protective custody. She will come talk to you more later to get your official statements about your attack."

"Thank you," Peter said glad to hear that at least his sister was safe. Guilt overwhelmed him, however, thinking about Micky's condition. He was out of surgery, but he wasn't out of the woods just yet. He had nearly died. Sure they'd gotten to him to save him in time, but what if he never woke up like the doctor said? What kind of life would he have as a vegetable with a machine breathing for him? Peter knew he would never want to live like that and felt horrible that Micky was living like that right now. None of the three friends said anything to each other for a long time after the doctor left. They were all way too worried about Micky's condition.


	23. Intensive Care

Author's Note: Ok, so the pain I was feeling earlier this week is gone, but now I either have allergies or am sick…..so, sorry if this sounds like a sick person wrote it. I was lying in bed with my brain swimming and nothing else to do but write and play games (hooray for ps3) since I couldn't concentrate on schoolwork and get ahead like I wanted to, so I hope it's still good despite the lovely cold medication I'm taking! Don't flame me if it's terrible. Lol.

Chapter 23: Intensive Care

The whole rest of the day, the three boys spent together in their hospital rooms. There were two cops stationed right outside as a protective detail while the detectives launched a search for Percy Tork and the others. They didn't seem all too happy about it, but did a good job nonetheless; even every plate of food that was brought in was inspected thoroughly by the detectives to look for poisons or other dangerous items. Davy had tried sleeping in a chair, but after a while, Mike tried to get him to go home. To no avail. Davy refused to leave either of their sides, so the nurse had snuck in a spare cot during the night making it impossible for anyone to move around the room between the two beds and the cot. The doctor had come in the next morning and was annoyed that she couldn't get to either of her patients, but came to a conclusion very quickly.

She and the nurse had gone to the director of the hospital to appeal for a bigger room for the three of them. They had used the argument that the three of them were targeted by a lot of people for death and since there was a room double the size of the one they were currently in available, they saw no reason not to move them into that one. They would all still be in one place thereby lowering the strain on the police force AND allowing the doctor to have enough room to treat them. If they were forced to be separated, the police would need extra teams to keep them protected, and both the nurse and the doctor said that was a waste of the police force's time, money, and energy. So the director agreed, and all three boys, Davy's cot included, were moved to a bigger room. For protection, none of their names were visible anywhere except the doctor's charts so that any intruder wouldn't even know where they were. Once they had gotten settled in their new room, Davy asked the doctor about Micky's condition.

"His lung started working last night, but we are still helping him breathe," she answered. "The fact he made it through the night is a good sign. No word yet on his brain function; we want to keep him in a medically induced coma for a while longer to help him heal more. His heart rate is good and his blood pressure is good; so it's looking good for him, but it's still kind of early to tell."

"Can I see him?" Davy asked.

"We are really only supposed to let family in to see patients in the ICU," she answered.

"We are family," Mike argued.

"Not technically," she said. "But I'll see what I can do." A couple more hours passed and the boys had started playing a game of cards (with Davy going easy on Mike and Peter since their cognitive functions weren't on par yet). They stopped when the Detectives came in to see how they were doing and get statements from Mike and Peter. They introduced themselves and Peter and Mike went into detail of what had happened to them. Detective Benson wrote down their stories and had them sign it when they were done.

"How's my sister?" Peter asked after he signed his own statement.

"She's doing fine," Detective Benson said. Detective Munch's phone rang and he stepped out of the room to answer it. "She and Marcy are both safe. We told them how you were doing and they both want to come visit you, but I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now. You're mother hasn't said much and has already asked for a lawyer. We're going to arraign her today. She is, of course, pleading not guilty."

"You must be joking," Davy said. "After all the evidence against her? How can she think she can plead not guilty?!"

"I don't know," Detective Benson said. "But that's how it usually goes. The defense will no doubt try to discredit you."

"I'd like to see them try," Peter scoffed. "Davy is one of the nicest people I know!"

"Won't stop the defense from trying," Mike said. Peter and Davy looked at him with a slightly confused look on their faces. Mike sighed before explaining. "They tried to say _I_ killed my mom during my dad's trial."

"Are you serious?" Peter asked. "That's got to be the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"

"Yeah, didn't work," Mike said. "They still convicted him. Though that might have had more to do with the fact that he leapt over the table and tried to kill me in the middle of the courtroom itself."

"What?" Davy asked. He knew Mike had said his father had threatened to kill him, but he didn't say his father actually tried to in the middle of the courtroom.

"Yeah," Mike said looking at his hands. Davy felt for his friend and really wished there was something more he could do for him. "One of the detectives had to carry me out of the courtroom and everything. That's kind of why I said your grandfather was smart for letting the prosecutors make a deal with your parents, Davy. I wish I hadn't had to go through what I did in the courtroom and I'm glad you didn't. But we may have to now."

"Well, I can take it," Davy said. "I'm a lot tougher than I look."

"I know you are, Davy," Mike smiled. "But it's a lot harder to deal with than it seems." Davy was about to argue with him again, but stopped when Detective Munch walked in with a worried expression on his face.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said when he walked in. "It seems that Vern Nesmith escaped on the way to Texas this morning."

"What?" all three boys exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked his face going pale white.

"He caused the transport vehicle to crash and killed the two guards transporting him," Detective Munch answered. "He stole their guns and shot them. There is an APB out for him and we are calling in the FBI and a fugitive response team to help find him."

"What about Mike?" Peter asked.

"We already have a protective detail for you and your friend Micky," he answered. "There's even a team circling the hospital itself. The hospital security staff itself is aware of your situation, but I will update them on your father's escape."

"This is bad," Davy said.

"If that's the case, then I think Patty and Marcy are better off in hiding," Peter said. "As much as I want to see my sister, I'd rather her be safe right now."

"We'll tell them," Detective Benson said. "I know this is hard for you. We will do everything we can to find and apprehend him again."

"Thank you," Mike said. He still looked very pale and Davy had no idea what to say as the detectives left the room. He didn't exactly know how Mike was feeling because when his mother escaped, she hadn't killed anyone, but he knew what it felt like to have a parent who wanted to kill you. They all did. Before Davy could figure it out, Doctor Warner came back in.

"The detectives told me what happened," she said. "I'm very sorry. I've already ordered our security officers to pay special attention to this floor. That said, Davy, I can allow you to visit Micky, but only for half an hour. He needs someone to support him in order to make a good recovery and since he has no other family, we are going to make an exception for you." Davy looked at Mike and Peter. He wanted to visit Micky, but with this new information showing just how desperate Mike's father was to kill Mike, he didn't want to leave Mike right now either.

"Go ahead, Davy," Mike said to him with a smile. "Peter and I will be fine. We've got lots of people watching out for us and Micky needs you right now more than we do."

"You'll be back soon enough, Davy," Peter agreed. "Mike's right. Micky needs you. Even if he can't hear you, I have enough faith that he'll at least know you're there."

"I'll be right back," Davy said getting up.

"We'll be here," Peter said with a smile. Davy had to laugh a little. Of course they weren't going anywhere, but Davy still felt like he had to stick with them for added protection. But with the police standing guard outside the room and the hospital's own security, he had faith his friends would be safe so he followed Doctor Warner to the ICU. When he got there, his stomach immediately knotted up. Micky was lying on a bed with wires attached to him monitoring his heart rate and body temperature among other things and a breathing tube in his mouth. Davy choked back a sob and walked over to the chair next to Micky.

"I'll leave you alone for a bit," Doctor Warner said before slipping out of the room. Davy placed his hand on his friend's forehead and brushed some of the hair out of his face. He really didn't know what to say or do as he wasn't even sure if Micky could even hear him. But he had to try.

"Hey, mate," Davy said trying to make his voice not sound as strained as it was. "I'm not sure if you can hear me or not, but I want you to know I'm here. The doc said I can only be here for half an hour and I wish I could be here for longer, but I can't. I'm staying with Mike and Peter. They're going to be ok, just like you. The doctor said Mike can probably go home in a week and Peter can go home in two. I'm not sure we'll be going home, but the police are working on rounding up everyone who hurt us. They've got Peter's mom already and they're working on getting everyone else arrested. And Marcy and Patty are both safe, so you don't have to worry about that either. The police have them in protective custody somewhere. Marcy wants to come see you, but we decided they should stay in hiding until the police get everyone else, including your parents. They believed us, Micky. They know the truth. Your parents kind of kidnapped me and Peter, but we're fine. We didn't tell them anything about where you and Marcy were. And then Peter did some really cool fast shooting and he hotwired a car and we escaped. So we're fine and the police are going to charge them with kidnapping and assault. They're not going to charge Peter for stealing the car. I guess when the owner found out why, he decided to let the charges drop and he has his car back now. So everything's fine now." Davy wasn't going to mention that Vern Nesmith had escaped or anything like that in case Micky really could hear him. He wanted him to be as stress-free as possible and was only going to share good news with him.

"Everything's going to be fine," Davy continued trying to tell himself that Micky could hear him and that his words were somehow giving Micky the strength to keep fighting. "You're going to wake up and we're all going to go home and get back to our lives." Davy was choking up and found it very difficult to speak. Seeing Micky like this was brutal. Micky didn't deserve this. All he'd wanted was to keep his friends and his sister safe. He'd sacrificed himself by telling Davy and Peter to run with Patty and Marcy while he tried valiantly but in vain to save Mike. The last words Micky had spoken echoed through his ears. He'd done something to get some of the men guarding him to leave; what that was, Davy didn't know, but he had no doubt it was why he'd gotten injured more. Mike hadn't said anything about a broken hand before and there was no way Micky would have been able to survive the blood loss he'd survived if his internal injuries had been caused any earlier than a few hours before they'd rescued him. Whatever Micky had done, he'd allowed himself to nearly die just to give his friends more of a fighting chance to survive. It had even seemed to Davy that Micky knew he probably was going to die when they'd been rushing him to the hospital. He'd almost seemed resigned to it; ready to die. And it had been for them.

* * *

"You ok, Mike?" Peter asked. Mike hadn't really said anything since Davy left and it was starting to worry Peter. He knew how his friend must have felt, but that didn't mean Peter knew how to make him feel better. It seemed a stupid question to ask in hindsight, but Peter never really thought about stuff like that. Of course Mike wasn't ok; his father had just murdered two cops in order to escape and get to him and on top of that, their best friend was in critical condition because of Peter's own murderous family. Peter knew that Mike blamed himself as much as Peter blamed himself, but didn't really know what to say to alleviate that guilt. But he knew that sometimes just talking about how you felt made things better. So Peter hoped that he could get Mike to at least talk about what was bothering him which wasn't something Mike often did. Even with them. When he'd been conned out of $100 by that music producer, he'd shut himself off in his room. Peter was pretty sure that given the opportunity, he'd probably do the same thing now.

"Yeah, Peter," Mike answered. Peter knew he was lying but wasn't sure if he should call Mike on it or not. He didn't want to push Mike because he knew that would only make it worse, so he decided to turn the tables a bit; talk about how guilty he was feeling in the hopes Mike would realize he had nothing to feel guilty for.

"I know I'll never forgive myself if Micky doesn't pull through this," Peter said.

"Why, Peter?" Mike asked. "It's not like this is your fault. You didn't do this to him."

"No, but my family did," Peter said. "And they did it because they were trying to find me."

"That doesn't make it your fault, Peter," Mike said. "You can't make choices for other people. You can't be responsible for what someone else does. You can only be responsible for yourself. And I think what you did to help Micky was pretty heroic. You stood up to his parents and you stood up to your own family in order to help him. You heard what the doc said, right? If we'd gotten to him even a minute later, he'd be dead."

"You're right, Mike," Peter said smiling at Mike and feeling slightly better. Mike always knew what to say, and now it was time to get Mike to realize he needed to listen to his own words. "The same thing goes for you, right? You said "we". All three of us worked together to save Micky. If it weren't for you and Davy, I'd have gone off and turned myself over and Micky would be dead. So you did some pretty heroic things yourself. Remember that. Also, having the strength to testify against your father after what he did…that's pretty heroic in my book, too." Mike finally mustered a smile. A genuine smile that Peter hadn't seen in what seemed like forever.

"Thanks, good buddy," Mike said. "I appreciate that." And this time Peter knew he wasn't lying. Davy came back into the room a minute later looking very dejected. Though Peter wasn't sure how he expected to see Davy look after seeing Micky in his condition.

"How's he doing?" Mike asked when Davy sat down on his cot.

"He's plugged in to so many machines," Davy almost whispered.

"They need to monitor his pulse," Mike said.

"I know, but it looks horrible," Davy answered. "I wasn't sure if he could hear me or not, but I talked to him anyway. I told him everything was going to be ok. I told him you guys were going to get better and the police were keeping Marcy and Patty safe while trying to arrest everyone who wants to hurt us. I didn't tell him about your dad escaping because I didn't want him stressing out if he could hear me."

"That's good, Davy," Mike said.

"I didn't really know what else to say," Davy added.

"You did fine, Davy," Peter told him. "Just him knowing you're there is going to help him. I'm sure of it."

"I hope so," Davy whispered. "The doctor told me I can go back tomorrow for another half hour."

"That's good, Davy," Peter said trying to offer a comforting smile to Davy. He couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for Davy to see Micky in a coma hooked up to dozens of machines. A part of him didn't want to see Micky in that state either, but another part of him desperately needed to see Micky just to know he was at least alive. And he wanted Micky to know his friends were around and supporting him so that maybe he could fight and wake up.

* * *

Davy had sat with Peter and Mike the rest of the day playing cards or checkers or just talking. He couldn't get the image of Micky in that bed out of his mind though, no matter how much the other two tried to distract him. A small part of him didn't want to go back because he wasn't sure he could handle seeing Micky like that again, but he knew he had to. And he wanted to. He had to show his friend his support and he wanted to be there for Micky as much as he could. After the three of them had eaten dinner brought by an orderly and checked by the police guards outside their door, Mike and Peter realized they were both very tired. They'd take small naps throughout the day and the doctor had told Davy that was normal with brain injuries and that Davy shouldn't worry about it, so while they slept, he'd think. But now he was tired too, so when Peter and Mike fell asleep, he asked the nurse to bring them fresh blankets. When she brought them in, Davy covered his friends to make sure they stayed warm. It was cold in the hospital for some reason Davy couldn't understand and Davy knew that the IV fluid mad you feel really cold too, but at least they brought heated blankets by so Mike and Peter could stay warm. Once he made sure his friends were warm, he curled under a heated blanket of his own and fell asleep almost immediately.

_Davy, now 8 years old, had gotten to class early that day and decided to rest his head on the desk for a while. He'd already snuck into the gym to take a shower and had dried off. Several months ago when school had started, the gym teacher noticed how the other students had picked on Davy for being dirty all the time. The teacher had asked why Davy was so dirty and Davy answered that sometimes they didn't have water in their house because his parents would forget to pay the water bill. What he hadn't said was that not only would they forget because they were high, but they usually didn't have the money either. The only bills they made sure to pay were the rent and the electricity just because they wanted to make sure they had a warm place to pass out. They never really cared how clean or dirty they were. _

_But now Davy was tired because he hadn't eaten breakfast that morning as there had been nothing in the cupboards and therefore he hadn't eaten dinner either. The last time he ate was when a classmate had given him a bag of chips the day before on the playground. He'd slept well enough, but the lack of food was making him tired. He didn't realize he'd drifted off to sleep until the teacher walked in and woke him up by gently shaking his shoulder. _

"_What are you doing here so early, Mr. Jones?" she asked him when he'd woken up. _

"_I'm sorry, Ma'am," Davy said. "I thought it would be ok."_

"_It is, but shouldn't you be on the playground with the others?" she asked him pointing out the window to his classmates who were all playing blissfully unaware of Davy's plight. _

"_I'm too tired," Davy answered truthfully._

"_Did you get any sleep last night?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Then why are you tired?" Davy wasn't sure whether or not he should answer her truthfully. He was really too tired to think of a good lie but at the same time, telling the truth usually got him into trouble with his parents. He decided to go for it though, too tired to come up with a good lie and maybe he'd get some food out of it. _

"_I haven't eaten in a while," Davy answered. _

"_What do you mean?" she asked narrowing her eyes. _

"_I ate a bag of chips yesterday that someone didn't want, but my cupboards at home have been empty for a few days now."_

"_What? Why?"_

"_My parents don't really go grocery shopping. But please don't tell anyone. If you do, I get in trouble."_

"_You're parents need to buy you food."_

"_I know, and social services have come out a lot and every time they do I get in trouble and I don't want to keep getting in trouble." Davy looked at his teacher who looked back at him with pity in her eyes. She hesitated before she did anything else, but then she dug around in her bag and pulled out a sandwich. _

"_Eat this," she said as she handed it to him. Davy didn't need telling twice; he grabbed it and ate it in nearly 3 bites. By the time he finished, the bell rang that announced the start of the school day and Davy quickly threw the bag in the trash with a thank you and a smile for the teacher. Every day after that, the teacher brought him a sandwich to eat. Sometimes he'd eat it right then, but mostly he'd save it for the walk home from school. He never knew if she had ever said anything to anyone else, but he always made sure to thank her. He even managed to make her a thank you card in art class one day. _


	24. Visiting Hours

Author's Note: Ok, so no more posting every day. If I happen to do that, it'll be a treat. School is getting harder so I have to devote more time to that. But anyway, here you go. Hope you enjoy. I'm very glad so many of you like this story. I wasn't intending for this story to carry on as long as it has, but since so many people seem to enjoy it, I'll keep going as long as I can or as long as you want me to!

Chapter 24: Visiting Hours

The routine was pretty much the same over the next 4 days. Davy would go visit Micky for half an hour and stay with Mike and Peter the rest of the day. The orderlies would bring them food at each meal and it would be checked by the police officers standing guard out front. There hadn't been any sign of Micky's parents, Davy's mom, Peter's brother or Mike's dad. Mike felt a little unnerved that in five days there hadn't been any sign of them and there was still a chance they could slip in here and do them harm. He knew that wouldn't be the smartest thing in the world to do, but he also knew desperation sometimes made the perfect fools. So every time the door opened, his whole body tensed and wouldn't relax until he saw a friendly face. This time when the door opened, it was Davy coming back from having visited Micky.

"How is he?" Peter asked like he had every day for the past 4 days.

"The same," Davy said. This was the same response they always got. There hadn't been any change in Micky's condition at all. It wasn't a bad thing, Mike had to admit. It meant that Micky hadn't taken any kind of turn for the worse, but Mike really wanted him to start getting better, too.

"At least he's not getting worse," Mike offered seeing the dejected look on Davy's face and trying to convince himself as much as he was Davy.

"I really don't know how much longer I can take it," Davy said suddenly.

"Take what?" Peter asked.

"Seeing him like that," Davy answered with a slight hint of anger. "He's just as pale as he was the first day I saw him. I don't understand why. Shouldn't he be getting better? Isn't that the whole reason they have him in a coma? Why isn't he getting better?!"

"Davy, calm down," Mike said even though he mirrored his friend's sentiments exactly. "These things take time. He'll get better. We just have to wait."

"Yeah, and it's like Mike said," Peter added. "He's not getting worse, so at least there's that."

"But shouldn't he be making _some_ sort of improvement?" Davy asked.

"He is," answered Dr. Warner as she entered the room. "You just can't see it. His heart started bleeding again a little the day after the surgery."

"What?" Davy asked his face paling.

"You didn't tell us that," Mike stated almost irritably.

"You said he was fine," Peter added.

"No, I didn't tell you about it," she answered. "I didn't want to stress you boys out. You need to heal just like he does. It was a very small leak in his heart that healed up on its own. His doctors considered taking him back to surgery, but decided the leak was small enough to watch it and wait. The consequences of a repeat surgery could have been worse than waiting. As expected, the leak healed on its own yesterday. That's why he's stayed pretty pale. You should start seeing an improvement in his skin color soon."

"So he's ok now?" Peter asked hopefully.

"Yes and no," she answered. "He's not completely out of the woods, but he's getting closer. Now, as for you two, I want to get some more images of your heads to see how they're healing. I ordered some blood work last night to check for infections. If all of that clears, meaning if your swelling has gone down and there is no sign of infection, then I will let each of you visit Micky today. But remember, that's only if your tests come back negative, so don't get too excited yet."

"Thank you," Mike said.

"Mike, Linda will take you back first in just a minute, then Peter," she continued. "And again, it will only be for half an hour. We can't overwhelm him or risk him getting infected."

"Of course," Mike said.

"We don't want to make him worse," Peter added.

"Good," she said. "How do you both feel today?"

"Fine," Mike said. "I finally woke up without a headache today."

"Wonderful," Dr. Warner said with a smile and noting something in his chart. "Peter?"

"I'm fine, too," Peter answered. "I had a headache when I woke up, but it's gone now. My arm itches though."

"Don't scratch it," she said making a note on Peter's chart. "That means it's healing. You scratch it and you'll open it right back up. I'll have Linda check the stitches later today when she changes your dressings." Linda came in a moment after the doctor left and started drawing blood from Peter and Mike to test. When she'd finished, she helped Mike into a wheelchair and wheeled him down to have the tests done. An hour after Peter came back, Dr. Warner came back in.

"How are they?" Davy asked.

"They are healing very well," she answered. "No signs of infection in the blood-work and the swelling has almost completely gone down for both of you. The fractures are still healing of course, but those take a while. That being said, you still need to take it easy, so you can go visit Micky, but you are not to leave the wheelchairs. Stay seated, understood?"

"Yes," Mike said and Peter nodded.

"Ok, Peter, you come with me first," she said. Peter nodded and the doctor carefully lowered him into the wheelchair they'd used to get back and forth for their testing. Peter was gone about 45 minutes in which Mike and Davy played a game of cards. Davy lost again, but Mike was pretty sure Davy was still going easy on him despite the fact the doctor had just said the brain swelling had gone down. When Peter came back, he looked pale and depressed just like Davy had when he'd first seen Micky.

"You ok, Peter?" Mike asked.

"Yeah," Peter answered. "I just didn't like seeing him like that."

"I know, Peter," Mike said. "But he needs us."

"I know," Peter agreed trying to smile.

"Mike, are you ready?" Dr. Warner asked. Mike nodded and allowed her to help him into the wheelchair after helping Peter back into his bed. She then wheeled Mike down the hallway and through the hospital. They went up a few floors before they made it to a sectioned off area of the hospital with a sign that read ICU. She punched in a code on a keypad near the door and it unlocked. Mike felt a little at ease knowing that at least you needed a code to get back here so Micky should be safe if something happened.

His heart nearly stopped when Dr. Warner rolled him into Micky's room. He expected to see Micky in poor condition based on what Davy and Peter had said, but it still hit him hard to actually see it. He took solace in the fact that if you took away all the wires and tubes attached to him, Micky looked better than he had on the drive to the hospital. He was really pale and Mike had never seen Micky this still before. Not even when he was sleeping. Dr. Warner wheeled Mike over to Micky's side and checked on the various machines connected to Micky.

"I'll leave you alone for now," Dr. Warner said on her way out. "But I'll be back in half an hour."

"Thank you," Mike said trying to push the lump forming in his throat away. When he turned to Micky, he didn't really know what to say. He held Micky's hand in his own and squeezed trying to let Micky know he was there. "Hey, Micky. They told us you were fighting through this. You need to keep doing that, ok? Keep fighting because I know you can. You have to keep fighting so you can wake up and go home. We're all here for you. We're all rooting for you. We know you can do this, buddy." The next half hour was incredibly hard for Mike. He didn't know what to really say to Micky other than to encourage him to fight and pull through. When Dr. Warner finally came back in, it had seemed like it had been a lot longer than half an hour. He didn't want to leave Micky's side, but he knew he had to get back to Peter and Davy. They had barely made it to the elevator when Mike heard something that made his blood run cold.

"Stop, or I'll shoot," said a female voice behind them. The doctor immediately stopped in the middle of the hallway. "Take him in that room." Again, Dr. Warner did as instructed. Mike couldn't see who was threatening them, but he thought the voice sounded familiar. When they got into the room, Dr. Warner turned him around so he could see a dark haired woman close the door behind them holding a very deadly looking gun. When she turned to face him, Mike realized it was Davy's mother.

"What can I help you with, Ma'am?" Dr. Warner asked stepping in front of Mike.

"Shut up," Brittainy snapped. "I don't want you; I want him."

"Me?" Mike asked. "Why do you want me?"

"Because you know where David is," she snapped. "I know he's here somewhere."

"Davy isn't a patient here," Dr. Warner said firmly.

"No, but he's friends are," she answered. "And he's not at home, so that leaves here."

"Look, Brittainy," Mike said wheeling the chair out from behind Dr. Warner much to her dismay. "I know you want to find Davy because you think he owes you, but you're only going to get yourself in a l more trouble than you're already in if you hurt him. Or anyone else for that matter. Now, I'm not about to just take you to Davy and watch you shoot him; I know you're smart enough to know I wouldn't do that. You can make things a lot easier on yourself if you just give this up. The police are looking for you. I don't know how you got in here, but if you hurt anyone while you're here, I can guarantee you aren't getting out of here easily."

"Shut up and just tell me where he is!" she snapped waving the gun around. Mike could tell she was high again because of just how jittery she was. Her eyes kept flicking back and forth between Mike and Dr. Warner and her hands were shaking much more than normal nervousness allowed. Mike's eyes focused on the finger wrapped dangerously around the trigger of the gun. One wrong twitch and she could easily pull it and kill either him or Dr. Warner.

"I'm not going to do that," Mike said firmly. "This is a situation where you're just going to lose unless you put the gun down and walk away."

"I want my money!" she yelled.

"I know you do, but how is shooting me or the nice doctor here going to help you get it?" Mike asked still trying desperately to talk her down and still staring at the ever shaky finger clutching the trigger of the gun.

"He's right," Dr. Warner agreed. "If you kill either one of us, you'll spend the rest of your life in jail."

"I told you to shut up!" she yelled. Everything else seemed to move in slow motion. Mike saw the finger squeeze the trigger and the gun was pointed at the doctor. Without thinking he leapt from the wheelchair and pushed the doctor out of the way. The sound of the gunshot rang through his ears and he felt a sharp hot pain rip through his leg. He landed on the floor with the doctor safely out of harm's way next to him. Brittainy looked shocked that the gun had gone off and for a split second stood completely still. Once she realized what she'd done, she turned and ran out the door.

"Don't move, Mike," Dr. Warner said turning to him.

"What about her?" Mike asked indicating the fleeing woman.

"Security will get her," Dr. Warner answered. "You've been shot; let me look at it." He was wearing one of those ugly hospital gowns, so she could see it fairly easily. Mike tried to ignore the pain as she moved his leg to see how deep the wound was. "It looks like a flesh wound. A few stitches and you'll be fine." She yanked open a cabinet and pulled out a roll of bandages and a fresh gauze pad. Mike winced in pain when she pushed it into his leg. A second later a large man burst into the room.

"Is everything ok in here?" he asked.

"No, a woman shot my patient," Dr. Warner answered. "She took off running."

"We were able to apprehend her as she ran to the roof," he said.

"The roof?" Mike asked. "Why would someone trying to escape run to the roof?"

"She was not in her right mind, Mike," Dr. Warner said now trying to help him back into the wheelchair. "How's your head?"

"Fine, it's my leg that hurts," Mike answered. "I'll stitch it back up when we get back to your room."

"Davy is going to be very angry about this," Mike mumbled.

"Well, it's not something either of us could have helped," Dr. Warner said. "But you did save me, so I thank you for that."

"Well, it's not like I could let her shoot you," Mike answered.

"How did she get in here?" Dr. Warner asked the security guard as he held the door open so she could wheel Mike out.

"We're still figuring that out," he answered. "I saw her accost you on the surveillance camera and ran here as quick as I could with my team. When we got here, she had taken off running down the hall. We chased her to the stairwell that lead to the roof and apprehended her there. Then I came here to check on you. My boys are bringing her to the office to await the police."

"Good," Dr. Warner said as they got into the elevator. The guard escorted him the rest of the way to Mike and Peter's room. When they passed the nurses' station, Dr. Warner talked to Linda who looked tense. "Linda, I'm going to need some disinfectant for Mike and a stitch kit. He'll also need some more pain medication."

"Of course," Linda answered glancing at Mike's leg. The gauze and bandage were almost completely saturated with blood by now so Mike was dreading going into the room with Peter and Davy. He briefly considered asking Dr. Warner not to tell them what happened and to stitch him up in another room somewhere, but he knew that wouldn't work; his friends would figure out eventually and they'd be angry at him for keeping it from them. Especially Davy. So he let Dr. Warner wheel him back into the room and sure enough, Peter and Davy both paled considerably when they saw him.

"What the heck happened!?" Davy exclaimed jumping up and insisting on helping Mike back into bed.

"We heard there was a commotion upstairs, but no one told us anything," Peter said morosely. "We were so worried about you."

"I'm fine," Mike said. "It's just a scratch. Nothing to worry about."

"Just a scratch?!" Davy exclaimed pointing at Mike's blood-soaked bandage. "That doesn't look like a scratch! What happened?!"

"Mike took a bullet for me," Dr. Warner answered. She quickly continued when she saw their faces turn to fright. "Don't worry though; it's just a surface wound. The bullet only grazed him. I think it only went a litter deeper than Peter's wound."

"Who shot you?" Peter asked.

"She tried to run, but they got her," Mike said looking away from Davy not really wanting to tell Davy the truth but knowing he had to.

"She?" Davy and Peter asked.

"Yeah, they're looking into how she even got in without being seen," Mike said.

"Who was it?" Davy demanded.

"I'm fine, Davy," Mike said. "Dr. Warner said it herself; it's just a flesh wound."

"Mike," Davy said firmly. "Who was it?"

"Your mom," Mike finally answered. The room was silent for what seemed like minutes.

"How…" Davy started, but trailed off.

"We're looking into it," Dr. Warner answered. Linda came into the room with the requested items and set them on the counter while Dr. Warner started to unwrap his leg. "Just relax, Mike. I'm going to numb your leg first." Linda handed her a rather long needle and Mike tensed when he felt the sharp poke.

"That doesn't look like it's just a surface wound," Peter said cringing.

"It just nicked a major blood vessel, so it's bleeding a lot," Dr. Warner answered. "Once we get it closed, he should be fine."

"_Should_ be?" Davy asked.

"I _will_ be fine, guys," Mike said. "Don't worry about it, ok? It's gonna be fine. They caught her and the police are on their way down here to arrest her. Nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about?" Davy asked. "Mike, my mother shot you!"

"Well, I don't think she did it intentionally," Mike said. "She seemed pretty surprised when the gun went off. And she shot at Dr. Warner, not me. I just pushed her out of the way."

"I don't care whether it was intentional or not, Mike!" Davy exclaimed loudly and angrily. "And I don't care who she shot at! My mother shot **you**!"

"Yes, but I'm fine," Mike argued. "Please calm down."

"Can you feel this, Mike?" Dr. Warner asked. He looked down and saw she was touching his leg.

"No," he answered.

"Good, then the leg is numb," Dr. Warner said. "You all need to relax. Stress is not conducive to healing at all. It makes things worse. No more yelling or I'll separate all of you."

"We'll calm down now," Peter said. "Won't we, Davy?" Davy didn't answer, but sat back down on his cot. Dr. Warner stitched up Mike's leg and applied a new bandage to it. Linda put another dose of pain medication in his IV and after a few minutes, Mike started to feel the pain in his leg subside. Within 15 minutes, Detectives Benson and Munch had arrived to ask Mike and Dr. Warner what had happened. They each gave their side of the story and they signed their statements. Dr. Warner and Linda left the room after she had finished leaving the detectives alone with the boys.

"Are you going to charge her with attempted murder?" Davy asked.

"We don't have enough evidence to definitively prove she intended to kill either one of them," Detective Benson answered. "But we can charge her with assault with a deadly weapon and bringing a gun into a hospital."

"Not to mention the sheer fact she had a weapon in the first place," Detective Munch added. "Someone with her record shouldn't have been allowed to obtain a gun, so my guess is she got it illegally. So we can tack that charge on to give her more time behind bars."

"Good," Davy said. "She deserves to be in jail."


	25. Awakened

Author's Note: Thank you all for the continued support!

Chapter 25: Awakened

A few days later things were starting to look a little better. The police had managed to track down and capture Tommy and Timothy whom Mike identified as being two of Mike and Micky's attackers. Peter informed the police of any past crimes he knew of, including Alan's murder as relayed and confirmed by Patty. The police said they were going to contact someone they knew and trusted in the FBI named George Mukada. He would look into Alan's murder to see if the evidence was sufficient enough to charge Tommy with his murder. The boys understood, of course, that with the family's reputation, they needed a lot more than just Patty's word. Percy, Vern, and the Dolenz's were still un-accounted for however.

Micky had gotten better throughout the week. The day after Brittainy attacked Mike, they had taken him off the breathing machine and allowed him to start breathing on his own, but they kept him in the coma just to be safe. The doctor was even allowing the boys to visit Micky for 3 half hour increments every day now. They had boosted it to 2 after they took the breathing machine off him, but had bumped it 3 the next day because he was improving so well. Dr. Warner had mentioned that they were considering taking Micky out of the coma soon because he was improving and the boys were happy to hear that. When she came in today to check on the boys, she had another man with her.

"Good morning, boys," she said with a smile. "How do we feel today?"

"Great!" Peter answered enthusiastically. Mike chuckled a little, but was glad his friend was finally doing so much better. "No more headaches and I haven't scratched my arm in about 12 hours!"

"That's only because you've been asleep for the past 8," Mike pointed out.

"And for four hours before that, Mike kept throwing his socks at you every time you did it," Davy laughed.

"I'll have to remind the night doctor to take away your socks," Dr. Warner laughed having gotten used to their teasing each other by now.

"I can't help it, it itches so much!" Peter complained, but was smiling.

"That means it's healing, Peter," Dr. Warner reminded him. "You scratch it and you're going to open the stitches and risk infection. What about you, Mike?"

"Fine," Mike answered. "My leg doesn't really hurt anymore."

"Good," she answered. "Let me take a look at the stitches on both of you just to make sure. While I do that, I want to introduce you to Agent Mukada. He flew in to talk to you boys. Agent Mukada, this is Michael Nesmith, David Jones, and Peter Tork."

"I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances," Ageng Mukada said as Dr. Warner moved to remove the bandage around Mike's leg first. Agent Mukda was a Chinese-American man only a little taller than Davy with thick black glasses. "I would like to start by thanking you, Mr. Tork, for all the information you have already provided for us. I have been investigating your family for years now, but haven't been able to make anything stick with them. We even tried sending in an agent undercover, but unfortunately, his cover was blown and he was killed."

"Yeah, I think I remember that," Peter said solemnly. "I'm really sorry."

"You had nothing to do with it," Agent Mukada said. "I know you were a child and didn't have a choice in what the rest of your family did. I had actually thought to approach you and offer you protection with a foster family in exchange for your testimony, but my bosses wouldn't go for that. I wasn't about to ask you to testify against them if I couldn't offer you protection. But then I found out that you'd left the day before you turned 18."

"I didn't know you wanted to get me to talk," Peter said.

"I doubt it would have done much anyway, to be honest," Agent Mukada said. "Your parents are incredibly smart and well-connected. I believe they even have a man in the FBI which is how they found out about our agent. Evidence disappears around them and witnesses change their stories or die. It would have been your word against theirs."

"But now it's different," Davy said.

"Yes, thanks to you," Agent Mukada said. "You did a very brave thing in standing up to Christine Tork, Mr. Jones. Thanks to you, we have audio and video of her threatening and attacking you as well as eyewitness testimony from several officers. We shouldn't have any problems making the charges stick this time with her, just so long as you stay safe. We also have some definitive evidence against Tommy for killing Alan. They found his blood in the hotel mixed with Alan's. Alan also wrote a testimony that Tommy was trying to kill him and carried it on him in case something happened to him. We can use that as evidence as well. They are going over your house with a fine-tooth comb right now trying to find even a hair left behind."

"Can't they just claim they were welcome guests and that's why the hair was there?" Mike asked skeptically.

"They can claim that, but that's where your testimony would come in," Agent Mukada said. "The jury would have to decide whether to believe you or them, but with the evidence against them, I don't foresee that being a problem."

"How close are you to finding Percy?" Peter asked.

"We've had a few sightings, but we think he's laying low for a while," Agent Mukada said. "Which is smart on his part, but bad for us. Your sister and the other little girl have been moved to another location just in case. We think some of our men are being followed during shift change, so we plan on moving them around until we can figure out a more permanent solution. The FBI is willing to put your sister into witness protection pending the trial, but there's not much we can do with Marcy."

"What do you mean?" Davy asked. "Her parents are trying to kill her, too."

"They're not trying to kill her," Mike corrected. "They're trying to kill Micky and take Marcy back so they can keep using and abusing her."

"Yes, and they aren't part of an organized crime ring," Agent Mukada answered. "They should be much easier to apprehend and prosecute. We'll keep her safe in the meantime, but we don't have to worry so much about the witness protection with her. With witness protection, the subject has to be moved to another state. When minors are involved, they have to go with a parent or guardian. Since Marcy's parents are the ones trying to hurt her, that's obviously not possible."

"So what happens to her?" Peter asked.

"Right now, your sister has agreed to keep looking after her," Agent Mukada answered. "But for the future, we don't know. We won't know until we talk to Micky and get a better idea of what he wants. He's her only other relative that we know of and he's an adult. Normally, custody would pass to him, but I've heard that might be a little difficult given that you don't really have a steady income."

"Not really," Mike admitted. "Taking care of a kid would definitely be hard."

"Which is why we need to wait to talk to Micky," Agent Mukada said. "It will be his decision."

"What about my dad?" Mike asked. "Has there been any word on where he is?"

"Unfortunately not," Agent Mukada answered. "We have everyone looking for him. He was last seen outside of Tucson, Arizona. I doubt he'll be able to get close to you right now. We've got his mug shot sent to every police agency between here and Texas looking for him. We'll find him." Detective Munch knocked on the door and poked his head in at that moment.

"George, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

"Sure," Agent Mukada answered. "I wish you boys well. We'll do everything we can to apprehend the people who hurt you."

"Thank you for the information, Agent Mukada," Mike said.

"You're welcome, and if there's anything else you can think of that might help us, don't hesitate to call me," Agent Mukada placed a business card on the side table next to Mike's bed and stepped out of the room.

"You're injuries are healing nicely," Dr. Warner said. "Just remember not to scratch. If you do, you'll tear the stitches and the wounds will get infected."

"Of course," Mike said. "We won't, will we, Peter?"

"I'll try not to," Peter said.

"Alright," she said. "In a few hours I'll come back so you can visit Micky." When Dr. Warner left, the orderly came by with their breakfast. They ate their meal and Peter and Davy started playing checkers while Mike started working on writing a new song. After a few minutes, Mike had 2 crumpled up pieces of paper on his bed from scrap and Peter and Davy were still engrossed in their game with Davy sitting at the end of Peter's bed. Mike looked up however, and saw Peter scratching his harm absently.

"Peter," Mike warned. Peter looked at him and immediately stopped scratching. Another few minutes later, however, he was doing it again. Mike grabbed one of the crumpled pieces of paper and tossed it at Peter hitting him on the nose.

"Hey!" Peter yelled startled.

"Stop scratching," Mike instructed while Davy laughed.

"I can't help it!" Peter defended.

"Just try, Pete," Mike said before turning back to his song. Peter didn't start scratching again until half an hour later this time. Mike shook his head and threw another piece of paper at Peter. It bounced off his head and landed on the checkerboard scattering Davy and Peter's game pieces.

"I don't even realize I'm scratching!" Peter exclaimed. Davy started laughing so hard that he fell right off the end of the bed. Mike and Peter jumped and Mike almost leapt out of his bed to help Davy off the floor but at just that moment, Dr. Warner had just walked in.

"Don't even think about it, you two," she barked. "Stay in your beds. Davy, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Davy answered getting up. "Just a bruised backside and ego."

"Well, I have some good news for you boys," she said. "Linda is coming with another wheelchair. All three of you are going to come with me down to Micky's room. The doctor's stopped giving him the drug keeping him asleep a little while ago and it should be wearing off within the next hour and I think it would be nice for him if you three were there when he wakes up."

"Really!?" Peter exclaimed. Mike and Davy significantly brightened, too. Mike was waiting for this to happen for days. It really meant that Micky was getting better and it lent credence to the notion he'd be ok. "He's going to wake up!?"

"Yes, but I want to set a few ground rules before we go," she answered. "No loud noises whatsoever. No jokes. I don't want him laughing yet. Don't hug him. As much as you want to, it could tear his stitches. You can touch him, but only gently. Don't do anything to stress him out."

"You have our word," Mike said.

"We don't want to hurt him," Peter agreed.

"When will he wake up?" Davy asked.

"We don't know for sure," she answered. "It can be an hour from now; it could be a few hours. With his injuries, he may not wake up on his own right away. His body may not let him wake up yet. It's too hard to tell. Our hope is that it's within a few hours." Dr. Warner opened the door and let Linda in with another wheelchair. Linda helped Peter into the wheelchair and Dr. Warner helped Mike into the wheelchair. As they made their way to the ICU where Micky was still being kept, Mike realized the police officers that had been so vigilantly stationed outside their room during the past several days (at least on this shift since there were 3 sets of them for 3 shifts) were following them to Micky's room. Mike realized they were probably going to be spending quite some time in Micky's room. Hopefully he would wake up fairly quickly, but he didn't want to get his hopes up too high for fear of being let down.

When they arrived in Micky's room, there was another doctor and a nurse already there checking the machines hooked to Micky. He'd been taken off most of them, including the machine that had been breathing for him, but there were still plenty of wires to monitor his brain activity, pulse, blood pressure and even body temperature. All the color had returned to his face and he looked like he was simply sleeping and would wake up if Mike just called his name. But Mike knew that wasn't going to happen. Dr. Warner wheeled Mike next to Micky on one side and Linda wheeled Peter on the other side now that the doctor and nurse had finished checking on Micky. Davy pulled up a chair behind Mike and sat down.

"Ok," Dr. Warner said. "All we can do is wait. Push that button to let us when he wakes up. Remember what I said. No hugging, no loud talking, no laughing, and no stress. Be gentle."

"We understand," Mike said. They waited for hours without any sign from Micky. Peter held one of Micky's hands in his own while Davy held the other. Mike rested his hand on Micky's head trying to keep Micky's unruly hair out of his eyes.

"You can wake up now," Peter said a little after the doctors and nurses left. "They stopped the meds cause they said you're ok to be awake now."

"Come on, Micky," Davy had also pled periodically. "You can wake up now. You're better now."

"Come back to us, Micky," Mike added. "Fight through this, buddy. I know you can. You're better than this." They all spoke very softly, just like the doctor had told them to. But Micky didn't wake up when they pled for him to. They sat there for about 7 hours. The only break they took was to eat lunch which they all tried to pass on, but when Dr. Warner threatened to end their visit if they didn't eat insisting they needed energy to keep healing, they left Micky's room long enough to eat. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime to them, Mike saw Micky's eyes move under his closed lids.

"His finger moved!" Peter said excitedly, but making sure to keep his voice low.

"Micky, come on, buddy," Mike pressed. "You can do it. We're here for you, buddy. Wake up." After another tense silence filled minute, Micky finally groaned and moved his head a little.

"Come on, Mate!" Davy urged. "Wake up."

"We're here, Micky," Peter pled. "Please, wake up." Another few minutes later and Micky finally opened his eyes. Mike reached over and pushed the button that beeped the nurses' station to let the doctors know Micky was waking up.

"Hey, Micky," Mike said looking into his friends eyes. He hadn't been able to look into Micky's eyes in nearly a week, and it brought so much joy to his heart. It was amazing the little things you never knew you'd miss until they were truly gone. He felt a tear well up in his eyes as he was filled with elation. "Welcome back, buddy."

"Mike?" Micky croaked out sounding incredibly hoarse and strained.

"Yeah, buddy, we're here," Mike said.

"All three of us," Peter said. "We're all here for you, Micky."

"We were so worried about you," Davy added. "But we knew you'd pull through and be ok."

"Guys…" Micky groaned. "I…I…what's going on?"

"You're in the hospital," Mike answered. "You got hurt. You nearly died, but we all knew you were better than that."

"No, I know that," Micky groaned. "I…why can't I see anything?"


	26. Blinded

Author's Note: Here's a treat. I actually managed to crank one out in one night. Idea's just kept rolling in my head until I typed them out. Enjoy!

Chapter 26: Blinded

Peter's heart sank like a stone. All the elation that had filled him moments prior at Micky finally waking up and seeming to have enough cognitive ability to recognize him exploded inside him. He felt like he was going to throw up. The words Micky spoke tore through him like hot knife through butter. What did Micky mean? Was he blind? Would it be permanent or temporary? Was this just a side effect or a complication?

"What do you mean, Micky?" Mike asked his voice also turning from elation to dread and worry. Davy's face had paled and he looked like he was going to faint.

"I can't see," Micky said again. His voice sounded strained and scratchy. Dr. Warner, Linda and the other doctor who'd been in earlier both came back in the room.

"He says he can't see," Davy said. "What does that mean? Why can't he see?"

"Calm down, Davy," Dr. Warner said as the other doctor squeezed next to Peter to start looking over Micky.

"His vitals are normal," Linda said looking at the monitors. "Heart rate's a little high."

"Stress," the doctor said dismissing it. "Mr. Dolenz, I'm Dr. Townsend. Is your vision blurry, or is there nothing at all?"

"It's really blurry," Micky answered.

"That means there's something there," he said. "Just relax. You're brain has to adjust still and heal itself. Your brain was deprived of oxygen for a short time, but long enough to damage it. The occipital lobe was probably damaged a little, but the fact you can see something, no matter how blurry, tells me that it's trying to repair itself."

"So it'll go away?" Mike asked. "He'll get better?"

"Yes," Dr. Townsend answered.

"How long?" Davy asked.

"That's really hard to tell," he answered. "Could be a few days; could be a few months."

"Months?" Peter whispered.

"That's one end of the spectrum," Dr. Townsend said. But Peter didn't care. All he cared about was the possibility this could last months. "I have to be honest. There is a small chance it may never heal."

"Never?" Davy asked.

"But that is a very small chance," Dr. Townsend said.

"Micky will be fine," Mike said firmly. Peter wasn't sure if he was trying to convince them or himself, but either way it wasn't working. Peter stared at his friend in despair. Micky closed his eyes and tried to smile a little, but even that didn't take away the feeling of dread Peter had.

"Mike's right," Micky said. "I'll be fine. Someone wanna tell me what happened though? Last I knew I was at the house."

"We rescued you, Micky," Davy said. "Got the smoke bombs from your room and distracted Peter's family so we could get you out the back door. Then we brought you here. They had to operate on you, but they saved you. You've been asleep for almost a week."

"Not sure we could have gotten you out of the house if you hadn't cleared out the room first," Mike said. "Not exactly sure how you did that, but good job."

"Oh no," Micky said and snapped his eyes open as though he just remembered something. He tried to sit up, but everyone in the room pushed him back down.

"Don't do that," Dr. Townsend said. "You need to rest."

"Peter," Micky said.

"Micky, I'm fine," Peter said. "I'm a little banged up, but the doctors are taking care of me and I'm just fine."

"No," Micky said. "Your father."

"What about him?" Peter asked feeling his stomach knot up again.

"He's here," Micky said. Peter's voice caught in his throat. If his dad was here, that was really bad. His father was ruthless and merciless, not to mention quicker to anger than anyone Peter had ever met in his entire life. Peter was the only person he knew of that had angered his father and lived to tell about it.

"What do you mean, Micky?" Mike asked.

"He was at the house," Micky answered. "He's the one who kicked me."

"He kicked you in the stomach?" Dr. Townsend said.

"Yeah, a few times," Micky answered.

"I'll pass that on to the police," Dr. Townsend said. "But they'll want to hear it from you later when you're more up to talking about it."

"Does that really matter?" Davy asked. "Who cares who kicked him; they all need to go to jail."

"It makes a difference in how they're charged," Dr. Townsend explained. "We thought Percy was the one who kicked Micky, but if it wasn't him, Percy can't be charged with attempted murder."

"You must be joking!" Davy exclaimed. "They all had a hand in this!"

"David, lower your voice," Dr. Warner cautioned. Peter was hearing the words, but not sure if he was fully comprehending them or not.

"The blows to the stomach are what caused the internal injuries," Dr. Townsend explained. "The broken ribs that punctured his lung, the ruptured spleen, even the tear in his heart. Those are what nearly killed him."

"It's ok, Davy," Mike said. "Percy can still be charged for kidnapping me and Micky and assaulting us. He's still going to jail. Peter, you ok?" Peter realized Mike was talking to him and he tore his eyes away to look at Mike. Peter felt sick to his stomach all over again and was afraid if he opened his mouth, he'd throw up.

"Peter?" Davy pushed. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," Peter managed to croak out. "It's just…with my dad here…it's really bad. It means he's really desperate and really angry, and the only person he's been angry with that he hasn't killed has been me."

"And me," Micky said. "I'm alive, Pete."

"Yeah, but you only barely lived," Peter answered sadly. "They said your heart stopped while you were in surgery a few times. They said if we hadn't brought you here when we did, you would have died."

"Well, then I guess I'm safe as long as you guys stick around," Micky said.

"Ok, boys," Dr. Warner said. "I think that's enough for today. You can come back tomorrow, but Micky needs to rest."

"Can they stay longer?" Micky asked. "I feel plenty rested. Davy said I was asleep for a week."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dolenz," Dr. Townsend answered. "I agree with Dr. Warner; you need to rest some more. So do your friends."

"What's wrong with them?" Micky asked suddenly sounding worried.

"Nothing, Micky," Mike said.

"Don't lie to me, Mike," Micky snapped and started coughing from the roughness of his throat. Linda grabbed a glass of water and put it into Micky's hand so he could soothe his throat a little.

"Sip it slowly," she instructed.

"I'm not lying, Micky," Mike said once Micky stopped coughing. "We're fine. We were hurt, but we're better now."

"Obviously not if you need rest," Micky said trying to bring the cup to his lips. He failed and spilled the water down his chin a little. Peter felt bad and tried to help him, but he was too far away. Instead, Mike reached out and helped guide the cup to Micky's lips.

"Look, Micky, we're fine," Mike said. "Don't worry about us. It won't do you any good to stress yourself out over something that isn't even a big deal."

"How do I know that," Micky quipped. "I can't see. I don't know how badly injured you are. Last thing I knew you were dying from a head injury."

"I wasn't dying," Mike answered a little too shortly for Peter's liking. Peter decided to say something or the two of them could keep going at it until one of them stressed each other out any further.

"Mike had a head injury, but it's healed," Peter said. "You've been here for a week. We've done our major healing already; now it's your turn. Yes, Mike had a fractured skull and so did I, but they've healed now. The doctors say we can go home soon."

"And Davy?" Micky asked looking in Peter's direction.

"Not even a scratch on that pretty face," Mike said.

"What about Marcy and Patty?" Micky asked.

"They're fine," Dr. Warner answered clearly impatient that they hadn't left after she'd already asked them to. "They're in protective custody right now, and completely unharmed. They wanted to come see you, but your friends thought it would be better to keep them in hiding until everyone has been apprehended."

"Who's still out there?" Micky asked.

"They caught my mom the other day trying to get in here and kill me," Davy answered. "And I helped the police nab Peter's mom. Tommy and Timothy got arrested a few days ago. Everyone else is unaccounted for, but the entire police department is looking for them. Even the FBI. They'll find everyone, Micky, so there's nothing to worry about."

"Now just relax, Micky," Mike said. "We're gonna go back to our room and get some sleep. I promise you, everything is going to be ok." No one said anything the whole way back to the room or the rest of the night. Peter knew Davy and Mike were just as worried as he was about Micky's vision. The doctor had said it was a very small chance it would never return, but there was still a chance. No matter how small it was, there was still a chance Micky would never see again. What would that mean for them? Micky could still live a full life, but he wouldn't be able to read music anymore. He could still play, but how good would he be at learning to play by ear instead of reading the music. Before falling asleep, Peter vowed that he would do everything he could to help Micky cope. He wouldn't admit it to Mike or Davy, and especially not to Micky, but he still felt guilty for all of this. And now with his father around, things weren't exactly going to get any easier on them. Taking care of Micky would be his way of making up for everything that had gone wrong because of him and his family.

* * *

Micky stared at the ceiling. Not that it was doing much because all he could make out were fuzzy white clouds. He admitted to himself that not being able to see clearly scared him, but he didn't want to admit that to his friends. The moment he'd told them he couldn't see, they'll all gone from sounding relieved and happy to terrified. He didn't want them to worry about something that was probably nothing. The doctor had even said that he should get his vision back. Although the knowledge that there was some small chance that he wouldn't nagged at him. But he couldn't allow himself to think that way. He had to tell himself that he would get his vision back. He would see Mike, Davy, and Peter's faces again. He'd be able to see his little sister that he'd only just met. It just might take some time. After a couple hours of lying there mulling over his situation, he felt himself start to drift off to sleep.

_Micky sat in his desk at school. He was told by the teacher to wait there after class because the principal wanted to talk to him. He wasn't sure if he was in trouble for something and tried to think about what he could have possibly done, but he came up empty. He usually kept to himself on the playground with the other kids, so he never got into fights. He had always turned in his homework and never talked back to the teacher. Maybe it was because he never really spoke to the teacher at all. He didn't answer questions in class because he really did want to just keep to himself. He tried to stay in his own little world because he didn't want to let anyone else in. He'd only been waiting for a few minutes when the principal walked in with his teacher. _

"_Hello, Mr. Dolenz," she said. "Your teacher says you like to be called by your middle name. Michael is it?"_

"_It's Micky," he answered. _

"_Ok, Micky, do you know who I am?" she asked. _

"_You're the principal," he answered. _

"_Yes, I am," she said. "Do you know what my job is?"_

"_You run the school," Micky answered. He really didn't understand why she was talking to him like he was a 5 year old baby. He was nearly 10 and understood perfectly who she was and what she did. "When kids get in trouble, you punish them."_

"_Micky, I do more than that," she said. "It's my job to make sure you all learn in a happy, healthy environment and that every child is safe."_

"_That's great," Micky answered. "What does that have to do with me? I didn't get into a fight or talk back or anything. I keep to myself."_

"_Yes, your teacher told me you like to be by yourself," the principal said. "Even when paired in group projects, you do them on your own and don't help your teammates. She also told me that last month you had a bruise on your eye and the month before that you were limping. Now you have another bruise on your neck."_

"_I know I do," Micky said now becoming more aware of where this was heading and dreading it. _

"_Can you tell me what happened?"_

"_I fell."_

"_On your neck?"_

"_Yes. I fell on a board."_

"_What about the bruise you had last month?"_

"_I fell off my bike."_

"_Did another fall cause you to limp before that?"_

"_Yes. I'm a little clumsy."_

"_That's interesting. You've been attending this school for 6 years since preschool and most of my other students have had at least one injury in that many years. But you, who claim to be clumsy at home, has never had a single accident here at school in the past 6 years."_

"_I don't know what to tell you."_

"_Micky, you can trust me."_

"_Ok."_

"_If someone is hurting you, it's my job to report it so it will stop."_

"_Who said someone was hurting me?"_

"_You display all the signs. Withdrawn from the rest of the school and several significant injuries. You're gym teacher told me he's seen several bruises on your back and stomach when you change into your gym clothes. I can help you Micky."_

"_No you can't," Micky answered without thinking. He knew if the teacher reported his parents for abusing him, he'd get in a lot more trouble. The neighbors had repeatedly called the police on the home and each time social services had come out, but never found anything wrong. Micky had told them once that his parents were hurting him, but the social worker didn't do anything about it. He wasn't sure why, but his parents had said that the dumb lady (to put it a lot nicer than they put it) had believed their story of Micky being a dramatic little brat and always making up stories. He didn't want to go through that again, and so he was determined to convince the principal to leave him alone. _

"_What do you mean, Micky?" she asked. _

"_I mean that you can't help me because there's nothing wrong. Now can I please go home? I have chores to do in addition to my homework."_

"_Of course. But please remember, Micky, if you ever want to talk, there are a lot of people here at school who want to help you." Micky got up and walked away. He knew there were guidance counselors and lots of other people here to help him, but knew he wouldn't talk to them. He couldn't let social services come back out to the house. Last time they had, which had been their 6__th__ visit, his father had nearly dislocated his shoulder and had kicked him so many times, he could barely walk. Which honestly is what had caused the limping the teacher had told the principal about. So he just walked home hoping the teacher and principal never brought it up again. _


	27. Decisions

Author's Note: Ponderoso, sorry if I confused you. Mukada is the name of a character from a TV show I love and he's played by a Chinese actor, so when I went to describe what he looked like, I just said Chinese. Sorry.

Sorry for the delay. I know I said no more daily, but I didn't expect a week in between postings. Got caught up watching old cartoons on youtube (mostly the Tick because Micky supplied his voice for the first 13 episodes and I found it funny) and finally got the really terrible movie Invisible Mom 2 which I ordered because it was cheap and Micky plays a villain (btw, him and the girl playing his sister are the ONLY two that could act in the whole move, the rest was just bad…..really, really bad…and I blame the writing staff for Micky's terrible puns). AND I cleaned my room and found my PSP and DS that I haven't touched in about a year…But anyway, caught up on my homework (how I'm managing straight A's in the hardest semester of my life so far completely confounds me) and sleep (for the time being…..mom's coming for a visit and I haven't seen her for 2 years, and since I work nights and sleep days, I'm gonna have to mess up my sleep schedule again to spend any time with her). Anyway, enough of my rambling….on to the story.

Chapter 27: Decisions

Mike, Peter and Davy spent the next week visiting Micky off and on and trying to keep him as de-stressed as they possibly could. It was hard, because Micky kept pressuring them to tell him the truth about everything that had happened. Not to mention the fact that the doctors had put a bandage over his eyes which served as a constant reminder to them that he couldn't see them. Now, however, they were sitting in their room playing a game of cards when Agent Mukada and Detective Much walked in.

"How are you feeling, gentlemen?" Agent Mukada asked when he walked in.

"Much better," Mike answered.

"Any news?" Peter asked.

"Yes and no," Agent Mukada answered. Earlier that week when they had first met with Agent Mukada, Detective Munch had pulled him out saying there was something he had to talk about with him. Agent Mukada had come back to their room the next day to inform them that Micky's parents had been found and there were police officers following them preparing to arrest them, but unfortunately, they had slipped out of the officers' view before the arrest could be made.

"There hasn't been any more news on Micky's parents or yours," Detective Munch said.

"But we feel like we're closing in on them," Agent Mukada threw in. "They are all in the city somewhere, but they're hiding. They know we're looking for them. They must have friends in the city that are helping them. That's the only way they can keep hiding for this long."

"My parents have contacts everywhere," Peter said sullenly.

"That's why we are trying to keep your location a secret," Detective Munch said. "But they know you're here. They don't know the exact location, but they know you're in the hospital. A man was arrested yesterday for trying to sneak in here with a gun. When detectives searched him, he had a piece of paper with your names on it as well as a nice sum of cash. What we don't know is who hired him. He lawyered up as soon as he was arrested."

"Good thing he didn't get close," Davy said breathing a sigh of relief.

"They're just going to keep trying," Mike said knowing they couldn't lower their guards yet.

"That's why we want to move you to a safe house once you're discharged," Agent Mukada said. "Which should be tomorrow according to your doctor."

"Why can't we stay here with Micky?" Peter said.

"Because Micky's in the ICU, Peter," Mike reminded him. "We can't spend more than a few hours a day with him. He needs his rest and us being in there with him is going to deter that."

"So we go to a safe house," Davy agreed. "Not a problem. We can still visit Micky."

"Actually, we'd like to move you somewhere out of town," Agent Mukada said. "The farther away from here you are, the safer you'll be."

"I realize that," Mike started, "but we aren't going to leave Micky here all alone."

"I understand you really care about your friend and want to spend time with him while he recovers," Detective Munch said. "But you have to think about what might happen. You're in a lot of danger here."

"We realize that," Mike said. "But that doesn't change the fact that Micky needs us."

"Just think about it, ok?" Agent Mukada said. "We aren't going to force you to do anything you don't want to do, but you have a day to think about it. We'll be back in the morning to move you."

"How are you going to move us, exactly?" Peter asked. Mike thought this was a stupid question, but realized how complicated the whole process really was when Peter continued. "You said they knew we were here, right? So what if they're waiting for us outside and see us getting into your cars and follow us? We wouldn't be safe wherever we went if they followed us."

"This is true, but we have that worked out," Agent Mukada said. "Some officers are going to sort of…smuggle you out of here in body bags."

"You must be joking," Davy said flatly and irritably. "I'm not going anywhere in a body bag!"

"And we can't exactly do that every time we want to visit Micky," Mike added.

"No, but I don't know if that's such a good idea anyway," Agent Mukada sighed. "Your safety is our primary concern, here. If anything happened to you, our case against the entire Tork family goes down the tubes. And they know that which is why they want you dead. If you aren't careful, you might really end up in _real_ body bags. Keep that in mind when you make your decision. We'll be back in the morning." Without saying anything else, the two men left the three boys alone. Silence filled the room for several long, agonizing minutes. Mike knew they had a point, but at the same time, tearing himself away from Micky seemed almost impossible. He knew that even if he didn't say it, Peter felt as guilty about what had happened to Micky as Mike did; if not more. Mike knew in his head that they had nothing to feel guilty for; it hadn't been them who'd attacked Micky after all. But in his heart, he felt broken. Just like he had when his mother died. He felt like he'd abandoned Micky and let him down. Like he'd stood back and allowed Micky to get hurt. And he knew that Peter felt the same thing. He also knew that no matter how hard Davy tried to hide it and no matter how many times Davy told them they had nothing to feel guilty for that he, too, felt a small sense of responsibility. Rationality told him he was being ridiculous and that they should do as the detectives suggested, but rationality didn't matter when your friend was in trouble.

* * *

That week didn't really get much better for Micky's vision. The rest of his wounds were healing and he felt more energy as every day passed, but he still couldn't see anything. The doctors had wrapped a bandage around his head to keep his eyes closed so he wouldn't strain himself trying to see anything and every day they would take the bandage off long enough to gauge any improvement. But there hadn't been any. He stayed in the ICU and the doctors allowed his friends to visit him daily, but not for very long. They could only spend a few hours at a time with him, and then the doctors would tell Micky he needed to rest. On their visits they had told him everything that had happened over the past couple weeks; the good and the bad after much prodding from Micky. When they had told him that Peter and Mike had both been shot, Micky's heart broke, even though they assured him that both wounds had been nothing but flesh wounds. But when they told him that after they had escaped the warehouse, Peter and Davy had been kidnapped and beaten by his parents, his blood ran cold. Guilt overwhelmed him for letting them get involved in his mess and for not being there to keep them safe. He hated to admit he got a little mad at Davy after hearing that he had challenged Peter's mother, but didn't express it to any of them. And he knew that Davy was only trying to do what was right, no matter how much danger it put him in. Not to mention, Micky would have done the same thing.

No matter how much he argued with the doctors that he was fine and needed his friends more than he needed rest, they always shuffled Mike, Davy and Peter from the room and told him to relax. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do when he was left alone to "relax". He couldn't read anything or watch TV. He couldn't play or listen to any music. He couldn't even play solitaire with the deck of cards Peter had brought him to try and cheer him up, to which Mike had politely pointed out that they were kind of useless, but Micky still thanked Peter for thinking of him anyway. Being bored and cooped up like this only stressed him out when he was supposed to be relaxing, but the doctors didn't see things that way. So when he heard the door open, he perked up hoping it was his friends.

"Hey, Micky," Peter said. Micky smiled, relieved to finally have something to keep him from dwelling on things. "It's Peter."

"I know your voice by now, Peter," Micky laughed, but gripped his stomach when he felt a sharp pain.

"Don't do that," Peter said. "You'll tear your stitches."

"Where are Davy and Mike?" Micky asked.

"They're both working things out with the police," Peter answered. "The doctors are finally letting Mike and I go, but the police don't want us staying at the house and as much as we'd like to stay here with you…"

"You can't," Micky said.

"Yeah," Peter said sounding depressed.

"Hey, it's no biggie," Micky lied. He hadn't told any of his friends how miserable he was after they left. "You guys will visit when you can and I've got the nurses and doctors bugging me night and day, so I won't be alone. Where are you guys staying?"

"We aren't sure yet," Peter said. "They're trying to tell us it would be best if we left town, but we don't want to do that."

"If it means you guys will stay safe, then do it, Peter," Micky said sternly. He in no way wanted to be the reason his friends stayed close to the danger rather than run from it.

"But that means we won't be able to come visit you," Peter said.

"I don't care," Micky answered. "I just want you guys in one piece when they let me go home. That's what I care about."

"But-" Peter started.

"No," Micky cut him off. "I don't want to hear it. You guys need to do exactly what the cops want you to." Micky could tell Peter was about to argue again, but stopped when the door to his room opened again.

"Oh," said the voice of one of the nurses that had been attending to Micky all week who'd earlier introduced himself as Cyril. "I didn't realize there was someone else in here."

"Sorry," Peter said. "They said I could visit with him for a while."

"Sure," Cyril said. "That's not a problem. It's just that I have to take Mr. Dolenz for a test. You're welcome to wait here."

"Ok," Peter said.

"Have a seat," Cyril said and Micky heard the scraping sound of the chair as Peter sat down. "You know what, I forgot something. I'll be right back. Just hang tight."

"I wonder what kind of test they need to do now?" Micky asked. "They've already done a ton of tests between yesterday and today. Wonder what they're looking for." He waited for Peter to answer, but he didn't. Micky was about to ask if Peter was ok when the door opened again and Cyril walked back in.

"Alright Mr. Dolenz," Cyril said moving the bed out of the room and down the hall. Micky called back to Peter that he'd be right back, but again didn't hear a response. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Why wasn't Peter talking to him? Peter always answered Micky.

"What kind of test are they doing?" Micky asked.

"Don't worry, Mr. Dolenz," Cyril answered. "It won't hurt."

"That's not why I was asking," Micky said.

"Just relax, Mr. Dolenz," Cyril said. Cyril pushed Micky's bed for what seemed like a rather long distance until Micky felt a breeze against his face. He heard birds chirping and he could smell freshly cut grass. He didn't need his eyes to tell he was outside. What kind of test took place outside?

"What's going on?" Micky asked. "Why am I outside?"

"I told you to relax, Mr. Dolenz," Cyril said sounding rather angry now. "We're just going on a little trip."

"Why?" Micky asked the hair standing up even further on his neck.

"The test needs to be done somewhere else," Cyril answered icily. "Stop asking questions and relax. Unless you want me to give you something to help you relax."

"No, where are you taking me?" Micky demanded as he felt the bed rise up as if it were being slid into the back of a vehicle.

"Shut up," Cyril snapped and Micky's heart nearly stopped when he heard the door to whatever vehicle he was in slam shut and he realized what was happening. He had no idea what had happened to Peter, but he knew that this nurse was taking him away from the hospital. He couldn't defend himself in the condition he was in and knew that whoever Cyril was taking him to wouldn't have any mercy on him.


	28. Lost Patients

Author's Note: Sorry it took another week to get this up, but my mom is visiting, so it's taking a little longer to get these typed up (this and my other fic). Hope it's worth the wait.

Chapter 28: Lost Patients

"What did you do to Peter?" Micky asked his captor. He couldn't see anything through the bandage around his head, but he could tell he was either in an ambulance or a van. There were at least two other people riding in the back with him on the hospital bed; he could hear their breathing.

"He's sleeping," Cyril answered. "And if you don't shut up, you're going to join him."

"What do you mean?" Micky asked, panic rising in his chest wondering if Peter was dead or just knocked out.

"I gave him a little something to help him take a nap," Cyril spat. "He's alive. For now. But if you don't shut up, I'm going to knock you out, too."

"Why didn't you just leave him there?" asked another voice Micky didn't know, but hope grew in Micky. Peter was alive and apparently in the van with them. "Isn't bringing him along just going to bring greater risk of getting caught? Not to mention this is way more work for us."

"Not if he looks like a patient," Cyril answered angrily. "Which he does now that he's sleeping. Remember, we're supposed to be transporting a patient. Now we have two. If I had left him, he would have told everyone that I took Dolenz for a few tests and everyone would have known I kidnapped him."

"You don't think they're going to figure that out anyway?" Micky sneered.

"No one saw us and a friend of mine conveniently knocked out the security camera for me," Cyril answered. "Besides, I don't really care. I'm tired of wiping people's butts anyway."

"Where are you taking us?" Micky demanded. "What do you want with us?"

"I thought I told you to shut up," Cyril barked. "I don't really want to deal with you right now." Micky heard movement and after a moment he felt himself start to get very tired. He tried to fight it, realizing that Cyril must have given him some sort of medication to put him to sleep, just like Christine Tork had when he and Mike had been held prisoner. Only this time, he didn't feel the sharp prick because he had an IV that Cyril was able to put it in. He tried to fight off the drowsiness, but was unable to.

* * *

"What do you mean you lost my patients!?" Dr. Warner boomed outside the door to Mike and Peter's room loud enough for Davy and Mike to hear. They had been waiting to sign final discharge paperwork when they heard the commotion outside the room. Davy and Mike exchanged a frightened look with each other and rushed over to the door, Mike much more slowly than Davy because his leg was still hurting from the bullet wound. They reached the door and opened it slowly to hear the rest of the conversation, afraid they knew who the patients were that Dr. Warner had been talking about; Peter hadn't returned from visiting Micky for well over 2 hours.

"I'm sorry, doctor," a man mumbled nervously.

"You better have a good explanation for this," she said icily.

"Cyril was the last one to see him," the man said. "He went in to administer medication and the cameras on that whole floor died. We don't know what happened."

"Where is Cyril?" she demanded.

"He clocked out," the man answered. "We've been trying his cell phone, but he hasn't answered."

"Keep trying," Dr. Warner snapped. "In the meantime, I suggest you also figure out how all the security cameras on one floor stop working at the same time."

"Dr. Warner," said Agent Mukada as he walked up to her. "We've requested the file of this nurse that was last seen with Dolenz but it's sealed until we can get a subpoena. You and I both know we don't have time for that." Mike's heart sank and he felt like he was going to throw up. It seemed as though a nurse, someone who was supposed to help and heal people, had kidnapped Micky and Peter.

"They have to be talking about someone else," Davy said trying to cling on to any shred of hope they had left.

"The only "Dolenz" that Dr. Warner and Agent Mukada have in common right now that's in this hospital is Micky," Mike said. He didn't want to crush Davy's hopes, but he knew they needed to think realistically in order to get anything done to save Micky.

"What do we do?" Davy asked dejectedly.

"I don't know yet," Mike answered as they continued to listen to the conversation outside the room.

"Linda, get me Cyril's file," Dr. Warner instructed.

"You really think he took them?" Linda asked.

"The only people who could sneak two patients out of here unnoticed are a nurse or a doctor," Dr. Warner answered. "And Cyril was the last one to see them and now he's disappeared. I find that a little suspicious, don't you?"

"He's worked here for over 10 years!" Linda argued. "He's helped save dozens of lives!"

"How long have you known him?" Agent Mukada asked.

"I helped hire him," Linda answered. "He had an excellent resume. Graduated with top honors from the best school in the state."

"The Tork family has ties everywhere," Agent Mukada said. "They bribe, they blackmail, they do whatever they need to do to bend the will of anyone they need to get what they want. That's why the only people allowed to go anywhere near Christine Tork are the head of security in the prison and the warden. We need to know everything we can about him. His family, his friends, everything."

"Get the file, Linda," Dr. Warner said. "This is no reflection upon you. You're the head nurse in an understaffed and overworked hospital; you can't be expected to know everyone's movements at any given point in the day. Get the file."

"Yes, Ma'am," Linda said and walked away hurriedly.

"How am I going to tell Mike and Davy we failed to keep their friends safe?" Dr. Warner sighed. "Those boys are closer to each other than most family I see here. It's our job to protect them and we failed."

"Didn't you just tell Linda that this wasn't a reflection upon her?" Mike said opening the door the rest of the way to show they were listening and already knew.

"Mike!" she exclaimed whirling on him and Davy in shock.

"The same should apply to you," Mike continued. "Neither of us blames you, but we want to know what you plan to do to get them back."

"We're doing everything we can to find them," Agent Mukada answered. "We have teams flooding the streets looking for them. Every van is being stopped and searched."

"Just vans?" Davy asked.

"That's the only way they can transport him right now," Agent Mukada answered.

"He's still in his bed and hooked up to the IV's," Dr. Warner said. "They can't move him in a car or truck without risking injury to him. If they took the effort to take all the medications he needs, they are going to keep him alive for at least a while."

"Well at least there's that," Davy said sounding only slightly relieved.

"And we have no idea if it was my father, his parents, or Peter's parents?" Mike asked.

"None of them have even been seen in the vicinity of the hospital," Agent Mukada said.

"If it were Micky's parents they would have killed him," Davy mumbled.

"Not if they want to find Marcy," Mike pointed out.

"Exactly," Agent Mukada said. "We know someone must have paid or otherwise enticed someone in the hospital to take them, but we don't know who or how. Once we figure that out, we'll be one step closer to finding them."

"It could have been any of them," Mike said. "My father could have kidnapped him to try and draw me out. Peter's family could have taken them both to try and find Patty."

"If its Peter's family, do you think they're going to kill him?" Davy asked sounding scared.

"I doubt it," Dr. Warner said. "From what you said, they know that they wouldn't be able to get information out of Micky or Peter easily."

"So they're going to torture Micky or Peter again," Mike sighed, the knot in his stomach growing even tighter.

"Unfortunately, I doubt anyone other than the Tork family would have the money or power to influence anyone in the hospital," Dr. Warner said.

"But we can't be sure until we prove it," Agent Mukada said. "This is why it's so important to find out who took him out of here. Once we do that, we can figure out what incentive was used to get them to do it. Then maybe we can figure out where they took Micky and Peter and we can launch a rescue mission. In the meantime, we are flooding the street with every available man and woman we have. Police and FBI. Volunteers and off-duty officers are already being called up. We will find them." Linda came back that moment with a file folder in her hand and handed it to Dr. Warner who opened it and started to read with Agent Mukada reading over her shoulder.

"Anything?" Mike asked wanting to look at the file too, but knowing he couldn't.

"Not much to help," Dr. Warner said. "There's a home address here."

"We already had one on record with the DMV and Detective Munch is searching it as we speak," Agent Mukada said.

"His father is listed as his emergency contact," she continued. "We have an address and a phone number for him."

"I'll have one of my men call him," Agent Mukada said pulling out a pen and paper to jot the information down.

"Nothing that would show any ties to the Tork family, Dolenz family, or Nesmith family," she continued and snapped the file closed when Agent Mukada had finished jotting the information for Cyril's father down.

"We'll find out what we can from his father and go from there," Agent Mukada said. "I'll also meet up with Detective Munch to see what we found from his house."

"Don't you need a search warrant for that?" Mike asked.

"Normally, but we don't have time to wait," Agent Mukada said. "The warrant is being drafted now and the roommate is letting us search common areas first. We don't need a warrant for common areas of a house if the roommate gives us permission to search. Besides, we'll have the search warrant in a few hours and then everything we find we can seize legally."

"What about us?" Davy asked. "What can we do?"

"You need to stay safe," Agent Mukada said firmly. "Which means you stay in the safe house we set up for you. Detective Benson is on her way here to take you. When you get there, do not leave under any circumstances. I will keep you informed when we find any more information."

"We want to help," Mike said.

"I understand," Agent Mukada said. "But your friends wouldn't want you risking your safety for them, now would they? Stay in the safe house. Don't go anywhere. Don't call anyone. We'll bring you food when you need it. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Davy and Mike said together, even though Mike had a feeling that they wouldn't stay true to their word. If Micky and Peter needed them, they would run in a heartbeat to save them.

* * *

Micky woke up a few hours later and felt pain in stomach and head. He tried to move when he remembered what had happened, but gasped in pain.

"Don't do that," Micky heard Cyril say.

"Why is he in so much pain?" Peter said, his voice sounding pleading and desperate.

"The pain medication wore off," Cyril answered.

"Give him more!" Peter exclaimed.

"Not yet, Peter," said another voice that made Micky's blood run cold: Percy Tork.

"Please!" Peter begged.

"Shut up," Peter's dad snapped making Micky's blood turn even colder. "You've caused enough problems as it is. Your mother is in jail because of you. Does that make you happy?"

"Don't answer that, Peter," Micky croaked out. He knew that Peter would speak his mind without a filter and knew Peter was happy his mother was in jail. If he said that, Micky knew he'd get hit or worse.

"No one asked you," Toby snapped.

"Please just let him go back to the hospital," Peter pled. "He needs his medication."

"He's getting them," Percy snapped. "The ones he needs to stay alive. The pain medication we're withholding for the time being. You can change that, Peter."

"Peter's not going to do anything for you," Micky said.

"I doubt that will last long," Percy said. "You both know where she is. One of you will tell us."

"No," Peter said quietly. Micky could tell Peter was torn; he wanted Micky's pain to go away, but he also didn't want to just hand over his sister. "I don't even know where she is. The police are hiding her location even from me."

"I doubt that," Toby snapped.

"They are," Peter argued. "They know that you have spies all over the place and that means that I don't even know where she is."

"I believe it," Percy said. "But I also know you can lead her to us, whether you like it or not."

"I won't," Peter snapped.

"Or should I say, she'll come to us," Percy said as though Peter hadn't said anything. "Once it hits the papers that you've been kidnapped, she's going to know who took you. And I've no doubt that she's going to come out of hiding to come rescue you. When she does, we'll be ready to deal with her."

"Then you don't need Micky," Peter said. "Let him go back to the hospital."

"No," Toby said. "He knows too much and he's part of the reason your mother is in jail. His testimony will keep her there. But you are right about one thing, Peter. We don't need him."

"No!" Peter screamed. Under Peter's scream, Micky thought he heard the cock of a gun, but couldn't be sure.

"You said it yourself, Peter," Percy said with a snide little laugh. "We don't need him."

"Don't kill him," Peter pled. "Please! I'll do anything! Don't shoot him!"

"You don't have anything to offer us, Peter," Percy sneered. "Patty will come running to save you whether Micky is dead or not. But she might come faster if the newspaper features his dead body on the front page."

"No," Peter pled almost near tears now.

"There is one thing you can do, Peter," Toby said icily. "You can save your mother."

"How would I do that?" Peter asked still sounding choked. Micky just lay there. He tried to make even small movements, but he was in too much pain. So all he could do was lay there and wait to see if he would die or if Peter would somehow manage to talk them out of shooting him. He had every ounce of faith in Peter, but knew they weren't dealing with ordinary criminals. And there was only so much Peter could do to keep Micky alive.


	29. Lose-Lose Situation

Author's Note: As always, read and review!

Chapter 29: Lose-Lose Situation

Mike and Davy were incredibly restless in the hotel room all by themselves. There were cops out front guarding the place, but they pretty much left Mike and Davy alone. The cops had brought them card games and a few board games and there was a TV, but all Mike and Davy could think about was what could be happening to Peter and Micky. It was killing them not knowing what was going on and not being able to help. Despite all attempts to distract themselves, all they could think about was the horrible things that could have been befalling their friends while they sat around and did nothing.

"This is driving me insane," Davy burst suddenly making Mike jump. Davy had been pacing the hotel room for quite a while now and Mike had been sitting in one of the chairs trying to write out lyrics for a new song, but failing. "Why are we just sitting here!?"

"We promised Agent Mukada we would stay here," Mike tried reasoning. "Besides, we don't even know where to even begin to look for them."

"It's been hours and the police don't know anything yet!" Davy exclaimed. "They could be dead by now!"

"They aren't dead, Davy," Mike said trying desperately to keep his friend calm, even though he wasn't sure he believed himself.

"How do you know that?" Davy protested.

"I just do," Mike lied and looked Davy squarely in the eyes. "Look, Peter and Micky are smart and resourceful. They'll figure a way to keep each other safe. And besides, whoever took them needs them alive to either find Marcy, Patty, or…"

"You," Davy finished for Mike since he couldn't bring himself to say it anymore.

"I don't like being here any more than you do, Davy," Mike said averting his eyes to the floor. "But what can we do? We don't even know where they are."

"Why are we sitting on our butts waiting to find out?" Davy argued.

"Because we don't have the faintest idea of where to look," Mike answered getting annoyed, though not so much with Davy, but the situation. "And there's still a nice, shiny, red target on my back and I'm not going anywhere with you until it's gone. If anything happened to you, I'd…I'd never forgive myself for one thing."

"Nothing's going to happen, Mike," Davy said as Mike turned away unable to look at his best friend. "Besides, what if it is your dad who took them? And he's waiting to lure you out but he gets impatient and kills one of them and leaves the body for us to find?"

"I'm more inclined to think the Tork's took them," Mike answered trying to push the image of the dead body of Micky and Peter from his mind.

"Why?" Davy asked.

"Because only the Tork's could have the kind of pull needed to secretly slip someone out of a hospital surrounded by cops, FBI and security," Mike answered. "My father doesn't have near that kind of weight to throw around. He's nothing more than a low-life murderer."

"Didn't you say he was working with the Tork's though?" Davy asked.

"Davy, it wasn't my father," Mike snapped jumping up and turning angrily on his friend.

"I'm sorry," Davy said shrinking back a little. "I just don't like sitting here not doing anything."

"I know you don't, Davy. And I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm just…I'm scared."

"Me too."

"There's nothing we can do, Davy. Agent Mukada is right. If we go out there and try and find Peter and Micky and end up getting hurt or killed, neither of them would be able to forgive themselves."

"I won't be able to forgive myself if they get hurt or killed while I sat around and did nothing."

"Davy…" Mike sank onto the edge of one of the beds in the room with a heavy sigh unsure of what to say. He felt the same way, but he always put his friend's needs before his own. If they died, he'd have to personally deal with the guilt of doing nothing. But if he died trying to help them and they lived, they'd have to suffer and he didn't want that either. But looking at those realistically, both options were unacceptable. He could not let his friends die but he couldn't let them suffer the guilt of _his_ death either. Either way, it was a lose-lose situation. The other options were that they'd be rescued by the police and everything would be ok, but that was looking much more unlikely as the hours ticked by, or Davy and Mike figure out a way to save Peter and Micky and get out alive. But that option seemed unrealistic from the start; with so many people out to kill them, they were bound to run into trouble. Then again, that seemed to be what they all did best. They always ran head-first into trouble and somehow always managed to come out of it.

"Mike, can I ask you something?" Davy asked finally sitting down next to Mike on the edge of the bed.

"Sure," Mike answered.

"Was it just me, or did Micky seem…did he seem to be ok to you? In the dune buggy, when he was dying. I don't really know how to explain it, but he seemed like he was ok emotionally. Like he was ok with dying. Was it just me? Am I going crazy?"

"No. You're not crazy. I saw it, too. And I think he was. I think that when he was trying to get some of the thugs to leave, he knew he was doing it to save us. He knew he was evening the odds for when we came and tried to rescue him. And he knew he'd get hurt the more he said to them, but I don't think he cared."

"He was willing and ready to sacrifice himself to save us," Davy said.

"Yes," Mike answered thinking he knew where Davy was going with this.

"If he could do that for us, why can't we do that for him?" Davy asked pointedly. Mike didn't answer right away.

"Davy, you know I would die for any of you in a heartbeat," Mike finally said. "But again, we run into the fact that we don't even know where to start looking for them."

"Why don't we find out? Ask the cops what they know? We can give them a call and ask what they know."

"I don't know, Davy. Not sure that's such a good idea."

"Why not? We need to figure out where they are so we can rescue them. Do you know of any other way to figure it out?"

"I doubt they're going to just tell us."

"No, but they may give us enough information to figure it out. It's worth a try, isn't it?"

"I guess." Mike crossed over to the room and picked up the phone. After he dialed the number that Agent Mukada had given them, he waited for the agent to answer.

"Agent Mukada," the agent said when he answered as a way of introducing himself.

"Hello, Agent Mukada, this is Mike Nesmith," Mike said. "We were wondering if you were any closer to finding Micky and Peter."

"We found a transfer of a large amount of money into Cyril's account, so it's safe to say that Cyril is the one who kidnapped your friends," Agent Mukada answered. "But we aren't any closer to finding where he may have hidden them. I'm sorry."

"Ok," Mike said dejectedly before hanging up. "Thanks anyway."

"Nothing?" Davy asked.

"Not really," Mike answered. "They know Cyril is the one who kidnapped them, but they don't know where he may have taken them."

"So now what?"

"I don't know, Davy. I don't know."

* * *

"How would I do that?" Peter asked with fear growing inside him as he stared at the gun pointing directly at his friends head. It took every ounce of strength for him not to crumble into pieces at the sight. He would do anything to save Micky's life, but at the same time, he would do anything to save his sister's. Making him choose between them was pure torture and Peter hoped that somehow there was something else he could offer his father in exchange for Micky's life. When his father mentioned that he could do something to get his mother out of jail, he perked up a little. He would, of course, do whatever it took if it meant saving Micky's life.

Peter had been asleep for the ride here. The last thing he had remembered was being told to sit down in Micky's rom and feeling a sharp poke on the back of his neck. He had woken up in this room with his father and Percy staring at him with smiles on their faces. It had only taken a few seconds to see Micky passed out still on his hospital bed with the IV's still attached to him. They hadn't actually taken the time to restrain Peter, but they had made it perfectly clear that if he tried to fight them or run away, they'd shoot him. Not that Peter had even thought about running away. There was no way he'd leave Micky here alone with his crazed homicidal father and brother and he couldn't very well run with Micky.

"Retract your testimony against her," his father answered. "Tell the police you lied and your friends lied. Then destroy that tape your stupid little English friend made."

"How do I destroy that?" Peter said ignoring the insult against Davy because he knew saying something would only make things worse. "I doubt they'll let me anywhere near it."

"You sneak in to the evidence locker, dummy," Percy snapped. "Once this is all over, that is. Until we get our hands on Marcy, you're staying here."

"Once she gets here, you find some way to destroy that tape," Toby added. "I don't care how you do it, but do it."

"I don't even know how to break into an evidence storage building," Peter said.

"Then I suggest you start thinking about it," Percy snapped.

"Peter, don't," Micky pled. His voice was rough and broken and his face contorted in pain as he spoke.

"Please give him the pain killer," Peter pled feeling himself start to tear up. "He's in so much pain. Please."

"He deserves to suffer for a while," Toby sneered.

"No, he doesn't," Peter argued. "He didn't do anything to you."

"He lied to me," Toby spat. "And you know how I feel about liars."

"That doesn't mean he deserves to be in pain," Peter argued still unable to take his eyes off the gun in his father's hand. "Please, I'll do what you want. Just don't hurt him."

"I won't kill him, yet," Toby said finally putting the gun back in his pocket. "But know the minute you cross me, he's a dead man."

"I won't," Peter said and he meant it. He wouldn't dare do anything to make his father or brother angry. He knew from experience what would happen if he did. His father seemed satisfied that Peter would stay put, so he, the nurse who'd kidnapped them and Percy walked out of the room, leaving Micky and Peter alone. The moment the door closed and locked them inside, Peter jumped out of the chair and rushed over to Micky.

"Micky," Peter breathed. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Micky answered. "Just hurts."

"Try not to move," Peter said sadly.

"Where are we?" Micky asked.

"I have no idea," Peter answered. "That nurse must have knocked me out in the hospital. I felt him poke me with a needle or something. When I woke up, I heard my dad talking to him. Congratulating him on a job well done. I guess they only meant to take you because they had no idea where I was. They thought I'd already been discharged from the hospital with Davy and Mike. Near as I can tell, my dad paid that nurse to kidnap you from the hospital to try and lure me out thinking I was already hiding somewhere else."

"Cyril thought I was alone," Micky said. Peter nodded remembering that Cyril had seemed very surprised that Peter was there when he came in to get Micky for his "tests".

"I guess when he saw me, he thought that he couldn't really leave any witnesses behind and took me too without realizing who I was," Peter agreed.

"You're sure Mike and Davy are ok?" Micky asked wincing a little in pain as he spoke.

"Yeah," Peter answered. "They were signing the discharge papers when I came to see you. My father hasn't said anything about them."

"Good," Micky said. "Peter, don't do it. Don't do what they're asking you to. It's going to get you in trouble. If they catch you, you'll go to jail."

"I don't care about that, Micky," Peter argued. "If I don't do it, they'll kill you. My dad held a gun inches from your head a minute ago. I was so scared he was going to actually kill you right then and there."

"Peter, it's not worth throwing your life away over," Micky argued back wincing again.

"You mean your life isn't worth it?" Peter asked. "Of course it is."

"Peter, just…" Micky trailed off. Peter could see that he was trying to stay coherent through the pain in his stomach, but was quickly losing the battle.

"Just relax, Micky," Peter pled placing his hand on Micky's to try and calm him down.

"Don't do anything stupid, ok?" Micky said. "We'll figure a way out of this. We always do."


	30. Sneaking Out

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in posting. I bought my first guitar which I've wanted for almost 15 years and am learning how to play and my fingers hurt lol. Anyway, here ya go! Hope you like it! I'll probably start wrapping this story up since I seem to have lost some of my fans somewhere along the way. Oh well.

Chapter 30: Sneaking Out

Mike and Davy had decided they had to do something to save Micky and Peter, but neither of them knew what. They had bounced around a few ideas, but realized most of them wouldn't work. The two biggest problems they faced were not knowing anything about Cyril and the cops standing guard out front. They had promised Agent Mukada that they would stay put in the hotel, so if the cops outside saw them leave, they'd report it to Agent Mukada who would make them go back to the hotel room.

"We have to figure out as much as we can about Cyril," Davy said.

"How?" Mike asked. "We can't leave without getting in trouble."

"Sure we can," Davy said. "We take the back window in the bathroom."

"The back window?" Mike echoed.

"Yeah," Davy answered. "There's an alley back there and it's tiny. It's out of sight of the cops and we can sneak through it easily."

"Ok, say we do that," Mike said, "then what?"

"We try and sneak a peek at that file at the hospital," Davy answered.

"How?" Mike asked.

"I have no idea, but we can figure it out when we get there," Davy answered jumping up and walking toward the bathroom. Mike followed him reluctantly not sure he liked this plan, but it appeared Davy was going to go with it anyway.

"Davy, maybe we should think this through a little more," Mike tried reasoning as Davy opened the bathroom door.

"We don't have time," Davy said. "Who knows what they're going through right now. Besides, guard change is in about 2 minutes. Peek out that window and let me know when you see them change."

"How do you know that?" Mike asked.

"All those days in the hospital when you and Peter were sleeping, I was paying very close attention to the guards to make sure we were safe," Davy answered. "Especially after my mom shot you."

"Davy…"

"Just go check, will you? I'm leaving whether you want to come with me or not."

"I'm not letting you run around out there alone with this many people trying to kill us." Mike sighed and walked over to the window of the hotel to peer outside. The cop car hadn't moved from where it was a few hours ago, but a minute later another car pulled in next to it. "They're here," Mike told Davy as he watched them exchange information with each other and the second car got settled into a good position. Mike heard Davy climb out the window and call for Mike to follow. Mike quickly dashed back to follow Davy out the window. It only took a few strides to catch up to his short friend and they quickly made their way through the shadows to the hospital.

"Ok, we have to get in there and find the file," Davy whispered. "I think the records room is on the second floor."

"Then what?" Mike whispered back. "We can't just walk in there and look at them."

"Maybe we can," Davy said and took off toward the entrance to the hospital.

"Davy!" Mike hissed but followed him nonetheless. There was a large commotion in the lobby of the hospital, so they went completely unnoticed by everyone there. It seemed there had been a car accident of some sort and several people were injured causing the medical staff to bustle around to try and take care of them. Davy and Mike slipped quietly and carefully up to the second floor. When they got there, there were a set of double doors leading into the records room and the boys peered through a crack in the doors.

"There's a woman behind the counter," Davy whispered. "That's all I can see."

"Ok, time to use your natural talents, Davy," Mike whispered now fully accepting Davy's plan since he didn't see much of a choice anymore. "You go distract her. I'll sneak by and take a peek at that file."

"Right," Davy said. He fixed his hair and his clothes before walking in with a confident gait. Mike watched through the crack in the door for his opportunity to slip in unseen.

"Hi," Davy said sweetly. "I'm really sorry to bother you, but I got lost. I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Of course," the woman behind the counter said. "What are you looking for?"

"I was looking for – my you have beautiful eyes," Davy said. "If you turn a little towards the light they look even better!" Mike slipped in as Davy carefully turned her away from the door admiring her eyes under the light. Mike silently hoped this worked while praying Davy didn't get too wrapped up in this and remembered that this was a ploy to divert her attention. "Yes, they look very lovely in this light!"

"Thank you!" the woman giggled as Mike silently crept past her staying as low as he could. He made his way back to the section that read "Personnel Files" while keeping an ear on Davy flirting with the woman more. As was the usual with young women around Davy, she was lapping it up. Mike didn't know Cyril's last name, so it took a while to find the right file. Luckily they were sorted by department well enough that Mike could at least pinpoint the right drawer; the one for ICU nurses. When he finally found the file he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket and jotted down the home address listed there. He quickly skimmed the file for other useful information, but didn't see anything so he quickly stuffed the file back where it belonged and crept back to the door of the records room. Davy saw him finish up and Mike gave him a quick thumbs up to tell him to wrap it up.

"So sorry," Davy said. "I just got so distracted by your beauty. I'm looking for the visitor's center. My grandmother is sick."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," the woman answered apathetically. "It's up one more floor."

"Thanks," Davy said before slipping out the door to meet Mike in the hallway. "Did you get it?"

"Yep," Mike said with a smile as he showed Davy the paper. "It's not far from here. Let's go."

* * *

"Micky, I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep you alive," Peter told Micky. "Whether you think it's stupid or not." Micky could hear the fear and worry in his friend's voice and knew that Peter meant what he said.

"Peter, I'm serious," Micky pled. "If anything happened to you on my behalf, I'd never forgive myself."

"You know the same thing goes for me, Micky," Peter rebutted. "You know you'd do the same thing in my situation."

"I know," Micky answered with a heavy sigh. He was right and Micky had almost died just to save his friends, so how could he ask Peter to not do the same thing essentially. "But let's try and think of an alternative before you do anything rash."

"I don't see any alternative, Micky," Peter said. "My father was a second away from shooting you. I know you couldn't see it, but I could and it terrified me. I can't lose you, Micky. We almost lost you once and I really don't want to go through that again. I don't think I _can_ go through that again."

"Ok, focus on stalling them as much as you can," Micky said. "Mike and Davy are going to notice we're missing if not the rest of the hospital staff and they'll send people to find us."

"How are they going to find us?" Peter asked sounding desperate. "I don't even know where we are."

"Are there any windows?" Micky asked unable to see for himself. It was frustrating not being able to see, especially in a situation like this, but he didn't have time to worry about that.

"No," Peter answered. "I think this is some sort of basement."

"Maybe we can use something in here to try and break down the door."

"Even if we could, what then? You're in no condition to be running away."

"I could if my life depended on it. Besides, all you'd have to do is push me outta here; this bed I'm in has wheels."

"Stairs."

"What? My bed has stairs?"

"No, if we're in a basement, how do I get your bed up the stairs?"

"Oh."

"We can't escape, Micky."

"You could."

"Not a chance. I'm not leaving without you."

"You could leave and go get help."

"Right, and as soon as they discover I'm gone, they come in here and kill you. That's not happening. Face it: we're stuck, Micky. We can't escape."

"Ok, so we wait until the cavalry comes."

"When has the cavalry ever come in time?"

"Mike and Davy aren't going to leave us hanging. They'll send someone to find us. They aren't going to let either of us die here."

"Or they're going to come rescue us themselves and get themselves killed in the process."

"Peter, stop thinking that way!" Micky groaned as he tried to move a little and pain shot through his entire body.

"Stop moving, Micky!" Peter pled. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"I know, I'm just…Peter, I don't want you to throw your life away for me. I don't want Davy and Mike to come charging after us either, but I know them. So do you. We both know they're not going to sit around on their butts no matter how dangerous it may be. I don't like it any more than you do, but we both know it's going to happen, so we have to try and help them along. We have to be ready when they get here or when the cops get here. And that means that you don't go rushing off to destroy evidence that Davy worked so hard to get and nearly died for. Don't be stupid. Got it?" Micky didn't mean to sound as firm and forceful as he did, but something told him Peter needed to hear it.

"Got it," Peter answered quietly as though he were ashamed of himself.

"Hey, I'm not saying you're stupid, Peter, I just don't want you to do something stupid that would ruin your life. Just as you wouldn't want me to. Right?"

"You're right."

"Ok, so tell me what is in this room and maybe we can work something out."

"Like what?"

"I don't know; a weapon or a distraction or something for when the cavalry comes."

"There's not really much in here; a bed, a chair, a table. Not much we can really work with."

"Anything else?"

"There's a radio and a clock on the wall."

"A radio? Maybe we can tune it to a police frequency."

"I don't know how to do that."

"I'll walk you through it; just go grab the radio."

"Ok." Peter set the radio on Micky's bed and Micky started to tell Peter what to do. A few times he got frustrated with not being able to see what Peter was doing, but after he felt the radio a few times they were able to get it even though it took an hour.

"You did it, Peter," Micky said when they heard the crackling silence in between radio calls. They listened intently for a while hoping to hear something pertaining to them, but all they heard were burglaries or car accidents. There was one particularly bad accident that flooded the hospital and pulled the attention of several officers.

"I don't think there are that many cops looking for us," Peter said dejectedly.

"Sure there are, but there are other things going on, too. They can't have every cop looking for us." After another hour of listening, they heard something that made their hearts skip a beat.

"Be advised," the dispatcher said over the radio, "two male federally protected witnesses reported missing. One around 5 feet, long brown hair, English accent; the other around 6 feet, long brown hair, Texas accent wearing a green wool hat. Last seen in the vicinity of the hospital. If seen, please contact dispatch."

"That's Davy and Mike," Peter said sounding a little scared as Micky lifted his head a little to listen.

"Ok, so they just slipped away from the cops to try and find and rescue us," Micky tried, though he wasn't sure he believed himself. "We just said they were going to do that."

"What if they didn't slip away, Micky?"

"They did. We both know they are going to come looking for us."

"I hope you're right."

"So do I," Micky said quietly as he rested his head back against the pillow.

"Maybe you should try and get some more sleep, Micky," Peter said. "It's probably getting late and you need to rest as much as you can."

"Sure," Micky said. "You too. You said there's a bed here; you should get some rest, too."

"What about the radio? Shouldn't we keep listening?"

"It'll be fine. We need to be rested and ready to go when they come save us."

"Ok," Peter answered sounding reluctant. Honestly, Micky wasn't sure he'd be able to get much sleep with the amount of pain in his stomach, but he was going to at least try for Peter's benefit. And he wasn't going to admit to Peter exactly how much pain he was in; he knew Peter already felt guilty enough. He heard Peter climb into a nearby bed and hoped that Peter would at least be able to fall asleep soon, though he also doubted that. They were all under too much stress to really relax long enough to get a good sleep.


	31. Clues

Author's Note: Short chapter, but I think it's still good. I buried two things in here from an old movie that I love. Little easter eggs so to speak. Wondering if anyone will pick up on them.

My heart goes out to anyone affected by the bombings. I know I have a friend who doesn't live too far from Boston and frequently makes trips there, so I texted her and luckily she was at work and away from the danger. I can never seem to understand why people commit such senseless acts of violence against the innocent. I hope you are all safe and that all your families and friends are safe.

Chapter 31: Clues

Mike led Davy to the address he'd jotted down in the records room at the hospital. It was a fairly normal looking house and Mike was expecting to see it swarming with cops, but apparently they'd already finished their search and vacated the place. Davy and Mike hid in the bushes nearby to formulate the next part of their plan: how to enter and search Cyril's room for clues without being spotted.

"The cops are bound to notice we aren't at the hotel anymore," Mike said. "So we have to hurry. They're probably already looking for us. We need to see if anyone is even home before we try and sneak in."

"Want me to just stroll up and knock on the door?" Davy asked.

"Don't see why not?" Mike answered. "Cyril's never seen us and we've never seen him, so he won't know who you are if he's home."

"And if he's not home?" Davy asked.

"If he's home, we have to lure him out somehow," Mike said. "If he isn't home, one of us will have to distract the roommate while the other searches Cyril's room."

"Got it," Davy said and stood up to go walk over to the front door. Mike caught him by the shirt sleeve before he left.

"Be careful, Davy," Mike said.

"I will," Davy answered and ran off to the front door to knock. He waited there for several minutes and then started peering in through the windows. He motioned for Mike to come over after looking in a few and Mike rushed over to him. "All the lights are off. I don't think anyone's home at all."

"Ok, let's find a way in," Mike said trying the first window only to find it locked shut. They tried a few more windows before they finally found one that was open in the back of the house. They carefully climbed in the window and found themselves in what appeared to be a study or library. A desk was pushed against one wall with shelves of books and filing cabinets against the others.

"Should we start looking here?" Davy asked.

"I doubt we'll find much here," Mike said pointing to a bunch of awards above the desk. Cyril's name wasn't on any of them. "This is probably more used by his roommate than him. Let's find his room." Mike and Davy made their way through the house and finally found a room with scrubs in the closet telling them this was Cyril's room. The room looked like it had been organized at one point, but was now a mess.

"You think the cops left this place this messy?" Davy asked.

"Probably," Mike answered. "I can't really see them putting things back where they go once they're finished searching."

"So how are we going to find anything in this mess?" Davy asked.

"Just gonna have to sift through the chaos, I guess," Mike answered. "This was your idea, remember."

"Yeah, but I didn't think it would be like this," Davy mumbled as he started going through the things on the bed. After about an hour, the two of them were about ready to give up having not found a single thing to tell them where he might have taken Micky and Peter. Mike sat on the end of the bed that was piled with papers and clothes when he heard something crack and felt a sharp poke in his backside.

"Ow!" Mike exclaimed and jumped back up.

"What?" Davy asked.

"I think I sat on something and broke it," Mike said moving the papers aside to see what it was. Underneath the mess was a picture frame with broken glass in it. When he picked it up, a small silver key fell off the back from where it had appeared to have been taped. Davy bent down and picked up the key and inspected it.

"Why tape a key to the back of the picture?" Davy asked.

"My guess is it's the key to this place and he was trying to hide the key," Mike said showing Davy the picture. It was an old picture with a younger boy, a dog, and a man smiling in front of a very large looking house.

"That looks like a mansion!" Davy exclaimed. Mike took the picture out and looked at the back. There was writing on it that said "Me and Dad at Grandpa's manor with Didymus".

"It's a manor," Mike answered.

"Same difference," Davy mumbled. "His dog's name is Didymus? What kind of weird name is that?"

"I had a dog named "Hoggle" when I was a kid," Mike answered.

"American's are weird," Davy muttered.

"I think I know this place," Mike said ignoring him. "I think I passed it on my out here from Texas. It's a ranch in the middle of nowhere and it's huge. Acres and acres of land with a giant house sitting on top of it."

"In the middle of nowhere?" Davy asked.

"Yeah," Mike answered as a metaphorical light bulb went off over his head. "With lots of empty space around it. The perfect place to hold someone prisoner. I heard that the house was really old and they used the basement as a hiding place for Spanish soldiers during the Mexican-American war."

"You really think they're there?" Davy asked hopefully.

"Why else hide the key?" Mike said grabbing the key from Davy and shoving the picture in his pocket. "Now if I could just remember where it was…"

"We sort of need a vehicle to get there," Davy pointed out.

"Right, well, let's go see how badly damaged the GTO is," Mike said. "You had it towed to your friend Mr. Crumpet's garage, right?"

"Yeah, and he said he'd have his mechanics work on it if they could," Davy answered.

"Perfect," Mike said dashing out of the room.

"Wait," Davy called after him. "Don't you think we should put the picture back? He may notice it's gone and know we're coming."

"We may need it," Mike answered. "I don't know if I remember exactly where this place is. Besides, he'll probably just think the police took it while doing the search of his room." Davy seemed to think about this for a moment, but finally decided Mike was right and followed him out the window they had snuck in.

* * *

Micky lay there in the bed listening to the crackling of the radio. It was only silent for a while in between calls, but the police did seem very busy. No more information had come in about Davy and Mike, which Micky thought may have been a good thing, but may have been a bad thing. But there hadn't been any reports of any dead bodies turning up around the city either, which Micky took as a good sign. He could hear Peter's breathing lessen a little as Peter drifted off to sleep and tried to do the same, but was just in too much pain. So he sat and continued to listen to the radio with the volume turned down so it wouldn't wake Peter or attract unwanted attention from anyone who may have been lurking outside. Most of the calls were ordinary traffic stops or burglaries, but one was about the major accident a few hours earlier which sparked Micky's attention.

"Suspect spotted in hit and run accident a few hours ago," said one of the officers over the radio. "I'm moving in to apprehend."

"Don't apprehend, officer," dispatch responded firmly. "Suspect is armed and dangerous. I've already called back up."

"He's wanted by the feds, right?" the officer asked.

"Yes," the dispatcher answered. "DON'T APPROACH. He's already killed two other officers. I repeat, do not approach until back-up arrives. Follow cautiously."

"Got it," the officer answered. "Following at a distance." Micky thought he knew who they were after now. The man who had caused the hit-and-run accident that landed so many people at the hospital had also killed other officers and was wanted by the FBI. That could really only mean one person: Vern Nesmith. Micky turned the volume up on the radio to try and hear what was going on. If they could apprehend Vern Nesmith, it would make things a lot easier for them. The only other people they'd have to worry about once they were rescued and the Tork family arrested were finding his own parents, who had seemed to almost drop off the face of the earth since their last sighting a week ago.

"Suspect turned onto Beach Street," the officer said.

"What's going on?" Peter asked as he woke up.

"I think they found Mike's dad," Micky said. "This cop is following him waiting for back up."

"Back-up is on the way," the dispatcher said. "Should be a few minutes."

"Damn," the officer cursed into the radio. "He saw me and took off. I'm giving chase."

"Be careful," the dispatcher said. "He's already shown he has no problems killing cops."

"Hang behind, officer," said a third voice Micky hadn't heard yet. "He's very dangerous. Keep him in your sights, but don't get too close. He is armed. I'm a few minutes out from there."

"That's Detective Munch," Peter said recognizing it. The last time Micky had spoken to detective Munch, Micky had been in a haze and he didn't remember much of what either of them said, let alone what he sounded like, but he took Peter's word for it.

"Please let them catch him," Micky mumbled. The next few minutes seemed to drag on for Micky and Peter as they listened to the officer relaying turns they were taking so his backup would know where they were.

"Please, please, please," Peter echoed.

"Suspect appears to be slowing down," the officer said. "He might bail. Where is my backup?!"

"I'm about a minute away from you," Detective Munch answered.

"If he bails, I'm going after him," the cop said.

"Don't; he's armed and he _will_ shoot you," Detective Munch said forcefully. Micky realized he wasn't really breathing anymore, but couldn't force himself to breath regularly. Detective Munch was probably right, if Vern bailed out of the car, he'd probably shoot at the officer if followed. Micky hoped that didn't happen, but knew it would unless this cop listened to Detective Munch.

"I've got my vest," the officer answered. "This guy has caused enough damage; time to put a stop to this."

"Officer, don't give chase," the dispatcher nearly yelled.

"He's bailing," the officer reported. Micky heard Peter let out a groan of frustration that echoed how Micky felt.

"Please don't follow," Peter mumbled, but the officer couldn't hear them.

"On foot, running into the woods," the officer said and Peter groaned again. The next second, they heard several gunshots and both waited with anxiousy for a response from the officer.

"Officer?" Detective Munch asked worriedly.

"He ran into the woods and I lost him," the officer said and Micky and Peter let out their breaths knowing he was ok. "I got hit, but I'm fine. Vest took the bullet."

"At least he's ok," Peter said.

"Yeah, but they lost the trail," Micky said.

"Don't move," the dispatcher said. "We're sending EMS your way and a search team to comb the woods."

"I'm fine," the officer said.

"That's an order from the chief," the dispatcher argued. "You are to go with EMS to the hospital. Stand down and the search teams will take care of it."

"Roger," the officer said, though he sounded very angry.

"They'll find him," Peter said hopefully.

"I hope so," Micky answered. "Before he kills anyone else. The last thing Mike needs on his conscience is this."

"Mike knows this isn't his fault," Peter said.

"Does he?" Micky rebutted. "Do you for that matter?" Silence met him for a minute and he knew Peter still felt guilty for all of this.

"I'd be lying if I said no," Peter finally said.

"That's what I thought," Micky said softly. "I know how you feel. My parents aren't exactly parents of the year either. And I know they've hurt a lot of people, including you and Davy. It takes a lot to convince myself it isn't my fault, but I have to. If I dwell on that too much, I'll never be able to live a normal life. I know it's easier to blame ourselves than to blame our families, but we can't do that. None of us can. The only thing that does is give them more power over us. As soon as we realize that we had nothing to do with any of this, the sooner we can move on with our lives. I'm saying this for myself as much as I am for you, and I'll say it to Mike and Davy, too, if I have to. We have to take back control and to do that, we have to put the guilt and blame where it lies: with them."

"When did you get so smart?" Peter said. Even though he couldn't see, he could still hear the smile in Peter's voice. He didn't need his eyes to tell him that his friend had listened to him and taken his words to heart. Now if they could both just keep it up.


	32. Lost and Found

Author's Note: Ok, so no one got my reference. The dogs in the last chapter: Hoggle and Didymus are characters from one of my all-time fave movies "Labrynth". My "father" told me the only reason he went out with my mom is because she looked like the girl in that movie.

Chapter 32: Lost and Found

Mike climbed into the driver's seat of their Pontiac GTO after thanking Mr. Crumpets for fixing it for them. Mr. Crumpets had told them that he owed them for saving him after being kidnapped and that the damage wasn't really all that bad. Davy had told him they'd be much more careful from here on out and neither of them mentioned what they were about to do for fear that Mr. Crumpets would stop them. Mike smiled when he started the car and felt it run like it had when it was new. The mechanics had even wiped his blood off the steering wheel. With a final wave good-bye to Mr. Crumpets and his mechanics, they pulled out onto the street and headed toward the highway so they could quickly get out of town and find the old manor.

"So what are we going to do when we get there?" Davy asked as they pulled onto the highway.

"Not sure yet," Mike answered. "We need to scope out the house and get a good idea of what we're dealing with."

"I doubt they'll make it very easy for us to sneak in," Davy said.

"Agreed, so we'll have to be very careful with whatever we do," Mike said. "They're not going to be very shy about killing us, but we need to figure out how many of them are there. And honestly, I say as soon as we confirm Micky and Peter are there, we call Agent Mukada and tell him we found them. That way they'll be there so they can arrest everyone before they have a chance to escape."

"Agreed, but we need to make sure Micky and Peter stay safe during all that," Davy said. "There may be some crossfire."

"Yes, which is why we're gonna sneak in somehow and stay with them until everyone gets arrested," Mike said. When they reached the outskirts of Malibu, Mike took a few winding roads that were familiar to him. It didn't take them long after that to find the house they were looking for. Mike took out the picture and held it up against the house to confirm it was the same one.

"I don't see anyone," Davy said.

"I doubt they'll just be prowling around outside," Mike pointed out. "That's kind of obvious. We need to get a look inside."

"How?"

"Follow me. Stay very close to the ground. Shouldn't be hard for you."

"Oh, very funny."

"I thought it was." Mike chuckled a little to himself as he carefully crept across the lawn with Davy behind him. They were able to make it to the window without running into any problems and Mike only hoped they weren't seen by anyone inside. Once they reached a window, Mike carefully peered inside. His blood ran cold when he saw Percy standing there talking to another man seated in a recliner and a third standing against the door jam. The window was open so Mike and Davy could hear their conversation.

"How much longer do we have to wait?" Percy asked.

"The news shows haven't reported anything yet," the seated man answered. "There should be something in the paper tomorrow."

"I'm not sure I understand this fully," the standing man said. "Your daughter is supposed to see that Peter is missing and then she's supposed to surrender herself? How exactly is she supposed to find you?"

"She's going to come out of hiding to try and find Peter," the seated man who Mike assumed was Peter's father answered. "When she does, we will find her."

"What if they don't report on Peter's disappearance?" Percy argued.

"They will," Toby answered. "It may not be right away, but they will."

"The longer we keep him down there, the less chance we have of destroying that tape and freeing Mom," Percy snapped. "Why don't we just make him do it now? Get this over with; get Mom out of jail and then we try and find Patty. They may even drop her protective detail if they can't prove a case against us anymore."

"They're going to make Peter destroy evidence?" Mike whispered in disbelief.

"How do we call the cops?" Davy whispered.

"I'll stay here," Mike answered quietly and pointed at a nearby building. "There's probably a phone in the guest house over there."

"You gonna be ok?" Davy asked.

"Yes, go, hurry," Mike said and turned his attention back to the conversation inside.

"We can't risk Peter getting caught before we find Patty," Toby answered. "After that, I really don't care what happens to him. He'll probably go to jail for destroying evidence and I need him before that."

"What about me?" the man standing against the door jam said now. "I can't go back to work. Cops have been all through my house. They know I was involved. What are you going to do for me?"

"Well, that's your carelessness, isn't it?" Toby snorted. "You expect me to be responsible because you left a paper trail behind?"

"I did exactly what you told me to," the man Mike now understood to be Cyril said through gritted teeth.

"I didn't tell you to be so careless," Toby retorted. "Although, I must commend you for bringing me my son. That was quick thinking on your part. I only asked for the Dolenz boy to lure Peter out of hiding and you brought me both. So because of that, I'll take pity on you. You can come back home with us and I'll give you a new identity and more jobs."

"The cops won't find me?" Cyril asked.

"Not if you do what I tell you to," Toby answered. Mike saw Davy running back toward him and motioned for him to stay low to the ground. The men inside didn't seem to see him as he came back to the window because they continued with their conversation, but Mike was only half listening now.

"Did you get a hold of Agent Mukada?" Mike asked as quietly as he could.

"Yes," Davy answered. "And he sounded very angry."

"We'll deal with his anger later," Mike said. "We should see how we can get down into the basement without being seen."

"I think I saw a cellar door over by the other end of the house," Davy said. "But it was covered in weeds so I don't know what kind of condition it's in or if it's even unlocked."

"Worth a shot to check it out," Mike said as he got up and started walking towards where Davy had seen the cellar door being careful to stay as low to the ground as possible so as not to be seen. When they got to the door in the ground, they started pulling the weeds away to clean it off. There was a chain holding the doors closed, but it looked rusty.

"Think we can break it?" Davy asked pulling on them.

"If not we should be able to break the lock," Mike said noticing the rust around the lock that held the chains together. Davy pulled with all his might, but the chains didn't break. Mike grabbed a shovel leaning against the adjacent building and carefully looked around to see who may be within earshot. When he was satisfied no one would hear them, he hit the lock with the shovel and it snapped open. They quickly opened the doors to the cellar and closed them behind them so no one would know they were in here before they walked down the steps into the cellar.

"Now we just have to find our way through here," Davy said. "Most manors have a very large underground hallway system. Kinda like a dungeon. The cellar should only be one of the rooms down here."

"How do you know that?" Mike asked as they made their way to the door on the other side of the cellar.

"My grandfather's house was about this big," Davy answered. They opened the door and carefully peered outside. There was a long narrow hallway with multiple doors.

"Ok, no one in the hallway, but how do we know which door they're behind?" Mike whispered as they shut the door to the cellar behind them.

"Divide and conquer?" Davy suggested. "The police should be here any minute."

"Alright, you take the left, I'll take the right," Mike said as they started walking down the hallway all the while listening for signs that someone was coming so they could quickly duck into an empty room.

* * *

Peter sat on the edge of the bed listening to the radio trying to fish out any other information about the chase for Vern Nesmith or information about Davy or Mike who had seemed to have ditched their protective detail to look for them. Peter wasn't too happy about that, but he was glad reinforcements were on the way. But knowing that Vern Nesmith was running around Malibu made him extremely worried about Mike and Davy. Did they know that Vern had made it back here? Mike knew there was a possibility he would come back since his escape in Tuscon on the way to Texas, but Peter had honestly hoped that Vern would just run and try and hide while leaving Mike alone.

There really wasn't anything new coming across the radio waves. Just a few more routine calls like minor traffic accidents and robberies, but nothing related to them. Still, Peter listened to the radio; clinging to the hope that he might hear something that told him Davy and Mike were safe. He'd be on edge until he knew what was happening to them. Peter didn't have a watch on him so he didn't know what time it was or if it was even still light outside, but he had a feeling that they'd been in here for at least 10 hours or more. They'd only given Micky medications once and Peter was sure they should be giving him more, but no one ever came. He looked at his friend and noticed his face was a little paler that it had been before and he was breathing a little heavier.

"Micky, you doing ok?" Peter asked placing a hand on his forehead to try and feel for any kind of fever. His forehead was only a little warm; not enough to cause much of an alarm.

"Yeah," Micky answered though his voice sounded weaker. Peter knew that Micky probably wasn't ok; he was just saying that so as not to freak out or worry Peter at all. "Just a little sore. And maybe a little sick."

"I think there's a trash can over here somewhere," Peter said. "I'll grab it for you in case you need it. Maybe I should try and get Cyril back down here to check on you."

"I really don't think they care, Peter," Micky answered. "Just relax. I'm fine."

"They should care," Peter argued. "They told me they'd keep you alive."

"Well, I _am_ alive," Micky sighed. "I think that's really all that matters to them. They don't care if I'm comfortable or not."

"I do," Peter mumbled.

"I know you do, Peter," Micky said with a smile. "But don't go bringing their attention down here for something they're not going to do anything about anyway. We need to keep listening to this radio for signs of Davy and Mike. Or a way out of here."

"If you're sure you're ok," Peter said hesitantly.

"I'm fine," Micky answered. Peter nodded and moved to at least grab the trash can for Micky in case he threw up.

"Here's the trash can…" Peter said before realizing Micky couldn't see what he was talking about. "Sorry, forgot you can't see it. I'm putting it right here next to your bed."

"It's ok, Pete, you don't have to apologize for that," Micky said laughing a little. When he did, he grabbed his stomach and moaned in pain a little.

"Stop doing that," Peter pled.

"Can't help it," Micky said.

"Maybe you should just try going back to sleep again," Peter said.

"I can't," Micky answered. "I tried. I think I nodded off for 5 minutes or so, but woke right back up."

"I wish there was something I could do to help you more," Peter said.

"Ssh," Micky hissed and sat up a little. Peter turned to face the door thinking that he had heard a noise too. "Ditch the radio." Peter nodded and grabbed the radio quickly turning it off and stuffing it under Micky's bed sheets. Peter tensed and stared at the door. He watched the door handle jiggle and waited for either his father or Percy to walk in, but nothing happened. He heard a voice on the other side, but it was too muffled to make out what was said or who it was. Tentatively, Peter walked over toward the door to t and listen more.

"We need to find a way to unlock this door," said the voice. Peter's heart nearly jumped out of his chest as he recognized it.

"Micky!" Peter exclaimed loudly and started bouncing up and down. "It's Mike!"

"Peter, shush!" Micky hissed back at him. "Don't attract attention down here! Help them open the door quietly!"

"Right," Peter said looking around the room for something to help. "Sorry."

"Peter?" Mike whispered through the door. "I have a shovel. I'm gonna pry open the door. Get back." Peter took a step back and waited.

"What's happening?" Micky asked.

"He's trying to pry the door open," Peter answered. "He has a shovel." A moment later the door snapped off and out of the door frame enough for them to open it to reveal Mike and Davy. Peter ran up and hugged Mike so hard he nearly fell over.

"Mike, Davy, you're ok!" Peter exclaimed.

"Yes," Mike answered hugging Peter back quickly before gently pushing him off. "But be quiet. We snuck down here. Your dad's upstairs."

"We need to get out of here," Peter said. "Micky needs to go back to the hospital."

"Yeah, he doesn't look so good," Davy said looking at Micky on the bed.

"I'm sure you're no ray of sunshine right now," Micky said laughing a little again and clutching his stomach in pain.

"Stop that!" Peter cried.

"I'm ok," Micky said right before he moaned in pain again.

"Davy, how long did Agent Mukada say he'd be?" Mike asked moving over to Micky's side to check on him.

"He didn't really give me a timeframe," Davy answered.

"We told Agent Mukada where you were as soon as we found out for sure you were here," Mike explained. "He should be here soon. I don't want to risk moving Micky back out through the cellar. Carrying the bed up those stairs is going to slow us down."

"So we just wait for him to arrest everyone upstairs," Micky said. "I'm fine." Though he was still clutching his stomach in pain.

"You don't look fine," Mike said. "Davy's right. You're really pale. You guys have been gone almost a full day. That's too long to be without your medications."

"It won't be that long of a wait, I'm sure," Micky argued. "Besides, they gave me some of my medication earlier. Just not pain meds."

"That was hours ago, Micky," Peter argued. Peter's stomach clenched when he realized how labored Micky's voice sounded and how heavily he was breathing. "Maybe we should just try moving him."

"No, that could make things worse," Mike said. "I don't like it any more than you do, but we're gonna have to wait for the cops. I'm sure they're going to be bringing medics with them that know how to safely move Micky. The last thing I want is to try and move him and end up tearing his stitches."

"Exactly," Micky said. "So just wait."

"Davy, go wait by the cellar door," Mike said.

"I don't want to leave Micky," Davy argued.

"I don't care," Mike said firmly. "We need to know when the cops get here and they need to know Micky is down here in serious need of medical attention. So just please; go wait by the cellar door." Davy hesitated a little, but after a few moments he must have decided not to argue with Mike and left. "Peter, watch the hallway in case they come back down here."

"Right," Peter said and moved to stand in the doorway. He turned to see Davy give one last apprehensive look at them. Peter nodded his encouragement that he should do as Mike asked and Davy turned and opened the door to the cellar to disappear behind it. Peter wasn't exactly sure what they were going to do if his family came down here before the police arrived, but he had confidence that Mike at least had a plan.


	33. Calvary

Author's Note: Mike, Micky, and Peter just announced a second tour! SQUEEEEE! So going because they are going to be performing at a theatre right up the street from my apt! Since I don't have to drive to another state, get a hotel, etc, so gonna get better tickets, bring my camera this time to get better shots than with my crappy cell phone and video! Woooooo! So excited! Jumping up and down with glee! Can't wait till August when they come to Mesa! *bouncing off the walls*

Chapter 33: Calvary

Mike set the shovel down next to the door and leaned down to get a closer look at Micky's face while Peter stood near the door watching for the Torks and Davy waited by the cellar door for the police to come rescue them all. Micky looked pale and a little shaky and that made Mike worry. He didn't really know how long it had been since Micky had gotten his medicine, but it looked like he was long overdue. Added to that the fact he seemed to be struggling to suppress a lot of pain, it took a lot of strength for Mike to just keep himself composed but he knew he had to for Peter and Davy's sake.

"Micky, how are you?" Mike asked softly.

"My stomach hurts a little," Micky answered weakly.

"Let me take a look," Mike said moving the covers off Micky's stomach carefully. Micky moaned in pain a little as Mike moved the hospital gown he was still wearing aside to get at the bandages. The bandages looked wet from sweat and dingy causing Mike let out a heavy sigh. "They never changed these, did they? They're supposed to be changed every 6 hours."

"I don't think they are worried about infection," Micky answered.

"I'm going to take these off, ok," Mike said looking up at Peter. "They're way too dirty. Peter, when I was looking for you two I saw a closet with medical supplies in it. Its two doors down. Get me some gauze and bandages and something to clean him up with. Be quick with it." Peter nodded and ran off down the hall. Mike carefully pulled the bandages off Micky's stomach and cringed when he saw how dirty his stomach was from him sweating. The incision had bled a little through the stitches which made Mike worry even more about infection, but knew he had to focus on what he was doing. As he pulled the gauze pad off the incision, Micky inhaled sharply in pain and Mike's stomach knotted up.

"I'm ok," Micky breathed before Mike could say anything.

"I don't want to hurt you more," Mike answered.

"I know," Micky said. "Don't worry about it. I know I can't see it, but I trust you. If you think it needs to be done, do it."

"Just hang on a little bit longer," Mike said. He looked up to see if Peter was coming back, but what he actually saw in the doorway made his blood run cold. Percy was standing in the doorway pointing a gun at him.

"How in the world did you get in here?" Percy asked.

"Snuck in," Mike answered. "You need to have better locks in your hideouts."

"Don't antagonize the psycho," Micky mumbled.

"Where's Peter?" Percy sneered taking another step closer to them. Mike was now suddenly regretting leaving the shovel so far away from him, but at least he felt relief knowing Percy hadn't spotted Peter in the hallway. Hopefully that meant Peter had seen Percy coming and hid.

"He left to go get help," Mike lied. "Sorry you missed your chance."

"Shut up," Percy snapped.

"Mike, please stop antagonizing him," Micky whispered again. But Mike didn't listen; he was trying to stall for time so that either Peter could figure something out or the cops would show up.

"Guess you'll have to settle for us," Mike added. Just as he did, he saw Peter slowly creep behind Percy. Peter froze for a second when he saw that Percy was pointing a gun at Mike, but quickly pulled himself back together.

"I told you to shut up," Percy sneered angrily. Mike knew he had to try and help Peter by distracting Percy so he didn't notice Peter. "How did you find us? And how did you get in here?"

"Now how am I supposed to answer you when you tell me to shut up?" Mike asked sarcastically. "Make up your mind."

"Are you asking to get shot?" Percy snapped angrily.

"I told you, we snuck in," Mike said as he watched Peter quietly and slowly reach for the shovel next to the door. "Your security is very lax. I even walked right under the window and listened to your conversation with your dad. I was right under your nose, and you were too stupid to see it. As for finding the place, your new stupid lackey Cyril led me straight to this place. Not sure you want to make him part of your little gang."

"You're an idiot with a death wish, aren't you," Percy asked. "Never mind; I'm just going to kill you. And I'm going to enjoy it." Mike watched as Percy cocked the gun with fear growing inside him. He watched Peter's face contort in terror for a quick second before hardening in anger as he realized his brother was a second away from killing Mike. Before Percy could fire the gun, Peter swung the shovel and hit his brother in the head with a loud clang. Percy dropped to the floor with a loud thud. Silence filled the room for a moment as Mike and Peter both stared at Percy's limp form on the ground.

"What just happened?" Micky asked.

"Did I… kill him?" Peter asked with his voice shaky and full of terror. Mike ran over to Percy as Peter dropped the shovel and backed away.

"Peter, relax," Mike said kneeling down to feel for a pulse on Percy. "You did what you had to. He was going to kill us. Besides that, he's alive. You didn't kill him."

"He's alive?" Peter echoed. Mike stood up, after taking another second to confirm that there was indeed a pulse, in order to comfort his friend. He couldn't imagine how hard that was for Peter to do, especially with how much of a pacifist Peter was.

"Cops are here," Davy said running into the room. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Percy lying on the floor with a small pool of blood beginning to collect under his head. "What happened?"

"That's what I asked," Micky said. "Still haven't gotten an answer."

"Percy came down," Mike answered. "I'm guessing he came to check on Micky and Peter. He saw me, pointed a gun at my head and threatened to kill me. Peter knocked him out."

"He's not dead?" Peter asked again. Mike gripped Peter's shoulders to try and keep him stable. Peter was dangerously close to having a complete mental breakdown.

"No, he's not dead," Mike said. "You saved me and Micky. You did what you had to. Calm down. The cops are here, they'll get him to a hospital and it'll be ok."

"I told them that Micky's down here and he's hurt," Davy said. "They said they had to clear the house first and arrest everyone before they can let the medics in here. Agent Mukada is really angry and I had to sneak back down here after he told me to wait out there."

"We'll deal with him later," Mike said. "Peter, did you find the bandages so I can at least finish this while we wait?"

"Yeah," Peter said absently. "But I left them in the closet when I hid from Percy."

"I'll get it," Davy said and darted out into the hallway.

"You ok, Peter?" Mike asked looking squarely at Peter. He still looked like he was in shock a little, but was trying to compose himself.

"Yeah," Peter answered unconvincingly.

"Ok," Mike answered anyway. "I'm gonna finish taking care of Micky. Why don't you just sit down on this bed and remember to breath." Mike guided Peter to a bed that was in the room and out of view of his brother on the floor, but Peter stared at the floor still looking scared. Mike really didn't want to leave Peter still feeling guilty and miserable, but he had to tend Micky. Davy came back in the room just as Mike heard a loud commotion upstairs signaling the police had entered the house. Davy handed the bandages and a bottle of disinfectant to Mike before sitting on the bed next to Peter to help console him. Mike carefully poured some of the disinfectant over Micky's incision. Micky gasped in pain and jerked away causing most of the disinfectant to miss the incision. Peter and Davy jumped off the bed with worry.

"Is he ok?" Davy asked.

"He's fine," Mike reassured them. "Micky, I know it hurts, but you have to try and hold still. I'm gonna pour this on again; can you hold still?"

"Yeah," Micky said. "I think so."

"Here, hold my hand," Peter said as he grabbed Micky's hand and Davy moved to help keep Micky's stomach still. Mike tried again and even though Micky still jerked, Davy was able to keep his stomach steady enough where most of the disinfectant got on the incision. The sound of Micky's pained gasp was like a knife driving through Mike's ears, though. He felt terrible, but knew it had to be done. They didn't know how long it would take for the cops to round everyone up and arrest them. Mike quickly and carefully put the new gauze pad on Micky's stomach and wrapped him up.

"Great, so now I'll be all nice and pretty for the nurses," Micky joked. Mike smiled while Davy and Peter laughed. Micky always knew the right thing to say in any situation that would loosen all the tension and make them feel better. It didn't take much longer for the police to finish upstairs and find the boys downstairs. A uniformed office moved past the open door with his gun drawn and quickly surveyed the situation in the room.

"Agent Mukada, they're down here!" he called when he realized Mike and the others weren't the bad guys. A second later, Agent Mukada and Detective Munch walked into the room. Davy was right; Agent Mukada looked really mad when he saw Mike and grew even more so when he saw Davy.

"I thought I told you to stay up there?" Mukada demanded.

"Sorry," Davy whispered.

"How did you even get in here?" Mukada asked.

"Cellar door," Davy answered pointing down the hall. "It's hidden by shrubs and weeds. This place really needs a gardener."

"Ok, someone want to tell me what happened to him?" Mukada asked gripping the bridge of his nose in frustration and indicating Percy still out cold on the ground.

"I hit him," Peter said softly. "I had to. He was going to shoot Mike."

"Alright," Detective Munch said trying to calm the situation a little. "Tell EMS we have two patients who need transport. And tell them to come through the cellar door. It'll be easier that way I think. Mukada, why don't we go outside and make sure everyone is secured out there. Boys, Detective Benson will give you a ride to the hospital as I'm sure you'll want to spend time with your friend."

"Absolutely," Mike answered glad that part of this was finally over. Peter's family was now all arrested and Micky was going back to the hospital to finish healing properly. But he knew sooner or later, he'd have to deal with Mukada's anger and even though it had been Davy's idea to sneak out and do this, Mike would shoulder the blame for it.

* * *

"I deliberately told you two to stay in the hotel room!" Agent Mukada yelled at Mike and Davy in the hallway outside of Micky's room. Peter was inside talking with Doctor Warner about what they had been through. "You could have gotten yourselves killed!"

"But we found Micky and Peter a lot faster than you did," Mike argued. Davy felt guilty knowing the whole thing was his idea and knowing Mike was taking the full brunt of the responsibility for it anyway.

"We were closing in on them," Mukada answered. "And that's not the point. You don't even realize what kind of danger you put yourselves in."

"Really?" Mike laughed sarcastically. "You knew Micky and Peter were in that house?"

"No, but we would have found them," Mukada snapped. "We were getting ready to do a search of all property owned by Cryil's family since the father wasn't cooperating."

"And then you would have searched them all, right?" Mike asked icily. "And by the time you would have found them, Micky would have died or be dying of a massive infection because those idiots weren't even changing his dressings and they were disgusting by the time I found him!" Davy thought for a moment about telling Mike he probably shouldn't be yelling at a federal agent, but decided against it when he saw the look on Mike's face. He could read Mike better than anyone else, probably even Micky and Peter, and he knew that Mike felt pained about finding Micky in the condition they had after everything they had gone through. He was now directing that pain to anger at Agent Mukada for failing to prevent Micky from having been kidnapped and for taking so long to find him. Not that Mike blamed Mukada for any of this, but he needed someone to lash out on. "Do you have any idea how easy it was for me to find him?!"

"Do you know how easily you could have died?" Mukada countered. "I understand Micky's condition was dire, but we were moving as fast as we _legally_ could. What you did was incredibly illegal and I very well could arrest you for it! Breaking and entering, stealing confidential information and theft of personal property!"

"So arrest me!" Mike yelled.

"Mike, stop!" Davy said finally jumping up. There was no way he was going to let Mike get arrested for this. "It was my idea to do all of that, Agent Mukada. Mike tried to talk me out of it, but I didn't listen. I snuck out the window in the hotel and I had the idea to break into the records room at the hospital."

"Yes, but _he_ is the one who stole confidential information," Agent Mukada snapped. "I'm not going to arrest him. But if you put even so much as one more toe out of line, I might just change my mind. You were incredibly lucky that neither of you were killed."

"We were being very careful," Mike quipped as Agent Mukada stormed away.

"Mike," Peter said coming out of Micky's room. "He's right. You guys were really lucky. Something happened. Micky and I overheard it when we rigged up the radio as a police scanner. Your…your dad is here. He caused a really bad accident where a lot of people got hurt and he shot at a cop who tried to pull him over."

"What?" Mike asked his face going pale.

"The cop is ok," Peter said quickly. "He was wearing a bullet proof vest and so he's ok. But that's why Mukada's so mad. He's trying to protect us and you go running loose to find me and Micky while your dad is looking for you. Not that I don't understand why you did it, but…"

"You're mad at me, too?" Mike asked.

"No, not really," Peter said. "Not mad. Just wish you hadn't done it."

"If I hadn't, Micky would be dead or dying," Mike argued.

"I know," Peter answered. "But that still doesn't mean that either of us wants you to put yourself in harm's way for us. You wouldn't want us to do it for you, would you?"

"No," Mike answered.

"It was my idea," Davy said again.

"But I went along with it and didn't stop you," Mike said.

"Look, what's done is done," Peter said. "You saved Micky's life again and you didn't get hurt in the process. So let's count our blessings rather than throw blame around."

"How's he doing?" Mike asked pointing at Micky's room.

"Doctor Warner said there is an infection, but with antibiotics and the work you did to clean it, he'll be fine," Peter answered. "Just a small setback."

"Good," Mike said as he finally sat back in a chair in the hallway. Davy looked at Micky through a crack in the curtains as Dr. Warner put something into his IV. A few seconds later, Micky fell asleep peacefully. Davy knew Micky would be ok, but he was more resolved than ever to make sure they stayed as close as possible to him. His parents were still out there looking for him and now they knew Mike's dad was running loose around Malibu, too. Until the police apprehended everyone, Davy knew none of them were completely out of danger yet.


	34. Custodial Decisions

Authors Note: Kinda a filler chapter, but its finals week, so I will probably be cranking more out soon till summer classes start. Not so worried about my finals because my grades are pretty solid and I'd have to completely bomb the finals to fail my classes. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 34: Custodial Decisions

"Ssh, he's waking up!" Micky heard a familiar English voice whisper through the haze of sleep.

"Hey, Micky," said another familiar voice very quietly. "How are you feeling?"

"Why are you guys whispering?" Micky asked his friends.

"We didn't want to disturb you," Peter answered.

"How are you feeling?" Mike asked again.

"Tired," Micky answered. "How long was I asleep?"

"Most of the day," Davy answered. "They gave you something to help you sleep better and longer. The doctors said you got an infection, but that it's getting better because you've been resting so much."

"What happened with Toby and everyone else?" Micky asked.

"They've been arrested," Mike answered. "And they're adding more kidnapping charges to them along with Cyril so they'll be in jail a long time."

"What about Percy?" Micky asked remembering that Peter had been forced to knock him out cold.

"He's going to be ok," Peter answered. "I apparently have a good swing. Fractured his skull and they had to go in and put a plate in his head."

"Serves him right for everything he did to Mike and Micky, though," Davy said.

"I didn't really mean to hurt him so bad," Peter said. Micky heard his voice lined with incredible sense of guilt.

"It's ok, Peter," Mike said trying to make Peter feel better. "I told you that you did what you had to. You saved me and Micky. You're a hero."

"I'm not a hero," Peter mumbled.

"Sure you are, Peter," Micky said smiling. "And he's going to be ok, right? So everything's good."

"Yeah, he's going to be ok," Peter answered. Micky heard a soft knock on the door followed by the door opening.

"Good morning, boys," said Dr. Townsend. "I'm glad you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Tired," Micky said again.

"Well, your body had done a lot of healing lately," Dr. Townsend said. "Let's take a look at your bandages." Micky felt the doctor taking off the bandages on his stomach and felt it didn't hurt as much as when Mike had done it.

"How does it look?" Davy asked.

"The swelling has gone down," Dr. Townsend answered. "And the coloration around the incision is improving. Which means the infection is getting better. You're a fighter, Micky. Most people don't recover from infections or injuries this fast. I've been looking over some of your other tests and it looks like you are doing a lot better internally as well. Your heart is beating normally and your lungs are almost at full function again. And the incision looks like it's started healing again. You're well on your way to getting home soon."

"What about his sight?" Peter asked nervously.

"That's a very tricky thing to work with," Dr. Townsend said. "But we'll take the bandages off and check how he's doing." Micky kept his eyes closed as Dr. Townsend un-wrapped the bandages from around his head. "Ok, Micky, open your eyes and tell me what you see." Micky slowly opened his eyes but felt pain as the bright lights overhead pierced through his brain.

"He ok?" Peter asked worriedly as Micky closed his eyes tightly against the light.

"He's fine, turn the lights off," Dr. Townsend said. "Switch is on the wall over by the door. Alright, try again, Micky." Micky slowly opened his eyes again. This time the lights were off so it didn't hurt his eyes. He tried focusing on seeing something. "Can you see anything?"

"It's still a little blurry," Micky said looking around. "It's a little clearer though. I can actually tell which blurry blob is Davy."

"Just gotta look for the shortest blur," Mike laughed.

"Haha," Davy said dryly.

"Can you see how many fingers I'm holding up?" Dr. Townsend said with a slight laugh to his voice. Micky looked and saw a blurry hand in front of him, but it was way too blurry to see how many fingers he was holding up.

"No," Micky answered. He heard Peter let out a small whimper of disappointment. He didn't need his eyes to tell him that Peter felt guilty about Micky losing his vision and wanted to help him feel better. "But at least I'm getting better. I can definitely see better than I did yesterday."

"Yeah, Peter, he's getting a lot better," Mike added to reassure Peter more. "Nothing to worry about."

"Your friend is a fast healer," Dr. Townsend said. "I'd say he can go home within a week or two if things keep getting better like this."

"Even if his sight isn't back?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Dr. Townsend answered. "Being at home is often times the best mechanism for healing. A familiar, comfortable environment is better to recuperate in than anything else. Especially if you're surrounded by friends and loved ones. The internal injuries to his lungs, heart and stomach are all things that need to be healed with medicine and careful observation. His eyes just need to heal with time and rest."

"We'll be sure to make sure he gets lots of it when he comes home," Mike said.

"I know you will," Dr. Townsend said. "Close your eyes for now, Micky. We need keep them rested." Dr. Townsend wrapped Micky's head back up and the boys spent the rest of the day with Micky. He felt scared that he still couldn't see, but he did have hope that his vision was getting better. He just didn't want to show his fear or apprehension in front of his friends because he knew they were worried about him and he didn't want to make it worse.

Over the next week, Micky and the others spent time relaxing. The doctors kept the police and FBI at bay for a while saying that Micky needed to be as far away from stress as possible. His infection had completely cleared up by the time the week was over. Most nights Micky was too stressed to really sleep though, so the doctors had to give him something to help him sleep. He would wake up in a haze every time they did, but he felt better when they helped him sleep than when he tried to do it on his own. One morning as he woke up in the haze, he heard his friends talking to someone else.

"Have you heard anything on where Mike's dad is?" Davy asked.

"Not yet," said the voice Micky recognized as Agent Mukada. "We've combed through the entire woods and not a single trace of him has been found. Somehow he slipped through. We sent a few dogs in to try and sniff him out, but they lost the trail."

"What about Micky's parents?" Mike asked.

"Still no sign of them, but we are working on it," Mukada answered. "They know they're wanted. Their faces are all over every news station."

"Isn't that unusual to be able to hide for so long?" Peter asked.

"It's been known to happen, but we've had people scouring the airports, bus stations, and train stations with no sign of them," Mukada answered. "My guess is they are still here. Someone is helping them and we need to find out who. We've interviewed all their co-workers and friends and have come up short. We've talked to Marcy, but she doesn't know who might be helping them either. We're hoping Micky can help us now."

"Well, he needs his rest," Mike said.

"I understand that," Mukada said sounding a little annoyed. "But we may not be able to find them without Micky's help. We also are running out of time to discuss the situation with Marcy and Patty."

"What situation?" Micky asked.

"Micky, just rest," Mike said. "Marcy's fine."

"What situation?" Micky demanded.

"Marcy is underage and her legal guardians are still your parents," Mukada answered.

"How is that possible?" Micky asked angrily. "You know what they've done to her now."

"They haven't been convicted of anything so as of now, they're guardianship still stands until child abuse can be proven," Mukada answered. "Technically she was taken illegally from her home and we've only been able to keep her in protective custody because of the threat posed against her. It's all very complicated."

"I thought kids got removed from abusive homes all the time before the parents even go to trial," Davy asked.

"Normally when a child is removed from a home for suspected abuse, we try and place them with other family or in a foster home," Mukada answered. "We would have placed Marcy in Micky's custody or put her back in the foster home if we knew of the danger."

"But no one saw it," Micky said icily. "8 years of hell and everyone ignored it."

"I can't say anything on that since I wasn't involved in any investigation," Mukada said. "We really shouldn't have even placed her with Patty in this case. We should have put her in foster care once we found out, but because of the danger posed to her and Patty, the call was made to allow her to stay with Patty until Patty was safe. Now she is, so we have to put her either in foster home or in your care. The choice is up to you."

"Micky's parents still want to kidnap her," Davy argued. "You can't pull her out of protective care yet! Not until you find and arrest them!"

"She can't be in protective custody without a legal guardian," Mukada said. "And with Patty safe now, there is no guardian. Patty wasn't even a legal guardian so the fact she's in the protective custody now is already bending the rules. We only did it because Micky verbally gave his custody temporarily to her."

"Well, maybe she will be safe now," Peter offered. "They know they're wanted criminals and they haven't shown up anywhere in weeks. I think taking Marcy would be risky for them. They can't just go back home with her and live their fake happy lives anymore."

"No," Micky said gravely, "which is why they're going to kill her. I crossed him and so did she by deciding to leave with me. He's going to kill us both."

"He can try," Mike said. "The fact that you've been kidnapped twice, beaten to the edge of death yet survived and are healing a lot faster than most people would in your condition shows that you're a fighter, Micky. Your heart stopped multiple times on the operating table, but you pulled through by sheer force of will. He can try and kill you, Micky, but he won't succeed because you're stronger than him. And you've got us."

"What about Marcy?" Micky asked. "She doesn't have anyone."

"She's got you," Davy reminded him.

"I can't take care of a kid," Micky said. "I can't afford it. I can barely afford to take care of myself."

"You need to give this some serious consideration, Micky," Mukada said.

"Are those my only choices?" Micky asked. "A messed up foster care system or I have to raise her? I don't know the first thing about raising a child."

"What were you planning on doing when you took her from your parents care in the first place?" Mukada asked.

"I wasn't planning anything," Micky answered. "I wasn't really thinking that far ahead."

"Well, you need to think about it now," Mukada said.

"How long do I have?" Micky asked.

"Till the end of the week," Mukada answered. "I'm trying to push this out as long as I can, but I'm getting a lot of pressure from my superiors. I also need to know if you have any idea who would be helping your parents. Friends? Family? Anyone?"

"I have no idea," Micky said. "Most of their friends weren't actually that close with them. And I never stopped to get their names either. I was too busy playing slave-boy."

"If you think of anyone let me know," Mukada said. "And you really need to make a decision with your sister soon."

"He'll think about it and get back to you, Agent Mukada," Mike said. He must have seen the amount of apprehension and worry that crossed Micky's face, even though Micky tried to hide it, because Mike's voice was very stern and protective. "For now he needs to rest. Have a nice day."

"Call me when he decides," Mukada said.

"Of course," Mike answered. Micky could hear Mike almost pushing Mukada out of the room. Micky really did have no idea what he was going to do. He didn't want Marcy dumped in a faulty foster care system, but he really had no idea how to deal with an 8 year old girl. Nor could he ever really afford to sufficiently take care of himself, let alone a child. That and if he threw her into the foster care system, he'd feel like he was abandoning her after promising to keep her safe. He really had no idea what he was going to do.

At the end of the week, nothing had changed. He'd talked it over with Davy, Mike and Peter, but still hadn't come up with an answer for Agent Mukada. Davy had brought up that the state would give Micky assistance to help him take care of Marcy, but Micky wasn't sure that was going to be enough. He still didn't know what to do. His sight had improved, but it still wasn't back yet, and how much could he really do to help take care of an 8 year old when he couldn't even see. Mike, Peter, and Davy had insisted they would support whatever decision Micky made and if he decided to take custody of her, they would do everything they could to help. But by the time agent Mukada came back to his hospital room at the end of the week, Micky had no answer. All he knew was that she was still in danger now and no one knew his parents better than him so no one could really protect her better than him. So for now, Micky told Agent Mukada he'd take custody temporarily until he could figure out something more permanent.


	35. Homecoming

Author's Note: Let me know what you think! More to come soon! BTW, bought the tickets for the show. I'm about 6 rows back. :D can't wait!

Chapter 35: Homecoming

Peter felt bad for Micky. The doctors were getting ready to discharge him, which was good, but Micky still didn't know what to do about Marcy. He wanted desperately to keep her safe and give her everything she wanted to make up for the 8 years of abuse she'd already endured, but on their income Micky could barely afford to feed her. Plus he would have to buy clothes for her and make sure she had everything she needed for school and everything else. They hadn't seen Patty or Marcy yet because the police were waiting for Micky to be discharged and everyone to go back home to reunite them. Peter was excited to see his sister safe again, but felt very nervous about keeping Marcy safe from Micky's parents. It was going to be hard, but Peter knew he and the others would do everything they could to make sure she stayed safe. When it was time to discharge Micky, Peter and the others listened very carefully to the doctor's discharge instructions. He still couldn't see fully yet, but he was getting there and they didn't need to keep his head wrapped anymore.

"The most important thing for Micky right now is relaxation," Dr. Townsend told them. "He'll need to shower every day and keep the incision clean, but make sure not to actually scrub over the incision. It should be fine within a few days, but you still need to be careful. No heavy lifting, no sudden movements. Keep an eye on the incision. If it starts to look pink or puffy or develop any sort of discharge, come back here. You'll need to reapply the bandages at night so it doesn't get scratched in your sleep. Your friends can probably help you with that."

"Definitely," Davy said with a smile.

"And until you get your sight back, you may need a little help with basic stuff," Dr. Townsend continued. "Don't be afraid to ask your friends for help. You don't want to go re-injure yourself trying to do simple tasks."

"We'll make sure to take real good care of him," Mike said.

"I'm not an invalid," Micky moaned.

"No, but you'd be surprised how much you rely on your vision," Dr. Townsend said. "The more you let your friends help you, the faster you'll heal, Micky. Remember that. I'm giving you a prescription for some antibiotics to take home and some pain killers."

"We can stop and get them on the way home," Mike said.

"Can we get some real food, too?" Micky asked. "I'm tired of hospital food."

"Yeah," Mike said laughing. "We'll get some cheeseburgers, but we have to be at the house by 8 tonight. Agent Mukada said he'd bring Patty and Marcy to the house then."

"Of course," Micky said. "We can just pick something up and eat it at the house." Dr. Townsend smiled and signed the paper he was holding before giving it to Mike.

"Take care of yourselves," he said before leaving. They helped guide Micky out of the hospital. He didn't need much help because he could see shapes by now, but couldn't see much else beyond that. After getting to the car, Peter helped Micky get in the backseat and sat with him while Mike drove with Davy sitting up front next to him. Mike ran into the drug store to get Micky's medicine and Davy ran into the restaurant next door to order cheeseburgers for them all to take home. Peter stayed in the car with Micky waiting for them to retun.

"I don't know how to raise a girl," Micky said suddenly.

"I know," Peter said trying to sound sympathetic yet supportive. "None of us do really, but I don't think anyone is really given a manual. No one knows what they're doing when they have kids."

"Yeah, but she's already 8," Micky said. "It's not like I really have time to figure much out. What if I mess up?"

"I think that anything you do now is going to be a lot better than what she's already had," Peter said. "She's already going to need therapy and I think as long as you love her, she'll be fine."

"Besides that," Mike said as he and Davy slid back into the car, having heard part of the conversation, "she's going to have 3 uncles to turn to when she needs help."

"Yeah," Micky said as Mike started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "But what about when she gets older? None of us really know how to help her with some of the problems she's going to have in a few years."

"Well," Davy said, "I don't think there will be a lot of guys coming around to take her out once they find out she lives with four men."

"I don't think that's what he's talking about, Davy," Peter said feeling himself turn a soft shade of pink.

"Yeah," Mike said, "uh…you're right. I wouldn't have any idea how to deal with that, but there's Patty and Millie. We could always ask them to help us deal with that."

"Yeah," Micky said absently. Peter wondered what Micky was thinking about. He knew that taking Marcy in would be hard, but he also knew it would be the better of the two options for them. He didn't really see Micky giving Marcy up to a foster home, but he also knew Micky was terrified of screwing up in trying to raise her. He understood how Micky felt in a way because he was about to become an uncle and didn't know what to do there either, but at the same time, he wasn't the one raising the kid. They drove the rest of the way back to the house in silence: no one really knowing what to say to ease Micky's mind. When they got back, Davy passed out the cheeseburgers and they ate in relative silence, too. As it got closer to being 8, Peter started getting more excited. It had been a month since he had seen his sister and he was worried sick about her. When they finally heard the car pulling in outside, he jumped out of his chair and ran to the door.

"Take it easy, Peter," Mike said with a slight chuckle. Agent Mukada walked in first followed by Patty who was holding Marcy. When Marcy saw Micky, she jumped out of Patty's arms and ran toward him. Peter pulled his sister into a tight hug as Marcy jumped into Micky's arms.

"Ow!" Micky hissed a little.

"I know you're excited, but you have to be gentle with him, Marcy," Patty said pulling Peter tightly to her. "Remember what we talked about? He's hurt and you need to be careful."

"It's ok, Patty," Micky said pulling his sister tight to him. "Just didn't really have a chance to brace myself."

"Are you ok?" Peter asked looking worriedly into his sisters eyes.

"We're fine," she answered with a smile. "I'm just glad you guys are ok. We've been very well taken care of. There wasn't much to do after we got to the ghost town, so we just waited for signs of you. Marcy and I got to know each other very well. Then when we were in hiding we mostly watched movies. I couldn't stop worrying about you."

"We're fine," Peter said. "And Mom, Dad and Percy are going to be charged with trying to kill you and us, so we don't have to worry about them for a while."

"So am I going to live here with you?" Marcy asked still gripping Micky tightly.

"For now," Micky answered. "Is that what you want?"

"Uh-huh," Marcy smiled. "Is Patty going to live here, too? I like Patty."

"Patty is more than welcome to stay as long as she wants," Mike said smiling and kneeling down so he was eye level with Marcy. "But why don't we go show you your room? Micky needs to rest a little, ok."

"Ok," Marcy said and squeezed Micky again before jumping down and following Mike upstairs. They had already decided to let Patty and Marcy sleep in the room upstairs while the four boys would sleep downstairs. They didn't have any little kid toys or sheets, but Marcy still had her doll that she clung tightly to.

"I took the liberty of filling out some paperwork with the state on your behalf," Agent Mukada said. "It'll unfortunately take some time for the paperwork to be approved and for you to start receiving some aid. In the meantime, we got some of her stuff from your parents' house, but I noticed it was kind of old and doesn't really fit her right."

"Yeah, not surprising," Micky sighed, "none of my clothes ever fit and they were always filthy. They usually bought whatever was cheapest from thrift stores and with how much I worked in them and how little I was allowed to wash them, they became stained really quickly."

"We'll get her some nice clothes tomorrow," Peter said. "I think Patty needs some clothes, too. Her luggage was left at the train station."

"Actually, Agent Mukada was able to recover my luggage for me," Patty answered. "And Detective Benson brought by donated maternity clothes for me to wear later as I start showing a lot more, too."

"Ok, so we'll just have to get some clothes for Marcy then," Peter said.

"We can't afford that right now," Davy said quietly. Peter knew they didn't really have much money. They didn't have any income the entire month they were in the hospital and Micky had used their little bit of savings to buy another drum. Mike and Micky had said that they had made a little extra playing at the train station, so Peter hoped that would be enough, but he wasn't sure.

"Actually, I think I can help with that," Agent Mukada said. "I talked to my wife and she and I bagged up my daughter's old clothes. She just turned 10 this year and we were going to donate her clothes to some local foster homes like we have since she was born. I think my wife also threw in some extra school supplies: a backpack, pencils, crayons and an old coloring book my daughter didn't like."

"Really?" Micky asked. "You didn't have to do that. Thank you."

"It's no big deal," Mukada said. "Like I said: we were going to donate all that anyway. She's a really sweet girl and she deserves to see there are some decent people left in the world. One of you want to help me get the bags from my trunk?"

"Absolutely!" Peter said. Agent Mukada may have been very angry with Mike and Davy before for running off to save him and Micky, but he really was a nice guy. For him to help out and give Marcy some clothes and stuff was a really nice thing to do. It felt to Peter like maybe things were finally starting to look up for them.

"These should last you a while," Mukada said as he and Peter walked out to his car. "And you'll get approved for assistance from the state and can get everything else then. For now, though, at least she has some decent clothes. I think my wife even put a couple old toys in here for her to play with. We didn't find any toys in her room when we went through it. All she's had is that doll she seems to love so much."

"We really do appreciate this, Agent Mukada," Peter said with elation seeing at least 6 large, overstuffed trash bags full of clothes and stuff for Marcy. He wasn't really surprised that they hadn't found any toys for Marcy. He doubted that Marcy had ever really played outside of school.

"This bag has some sheets and blankets for her," Mukada said grabbing one of the bags.

"Wow, thanks," Peter said as the two of them carried the bags into the house.

"What's all that?" Marcy said running down the spiral staircase in a way that reminded Peter of Micky.

"It's a surprise for you," Mukada said.

"A surprise?" Marcy asked pausing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes, these are all for you," Mukada said. "I know they aren't really wrapped nicely like most presents, but my wife and I wanted you to have these." Marcy stood still at the bottom of the stairs. It was surprising to Peter because normally most kids ran and ripped open presents. He expected her to run and start digging through the bags. But suddenly Peter realized that she had probably never been given gifts before and she wasn't sure what to really do.

"It's ok, Marcy," Micky said. "Go ahead." Marcy bit her bottom lip nervously, but seemed to think that if it was ok with Micky, it would be ok for her to look in the bags so she let Mike lead her to one of the bags.

"I'm going to head home now," Agent Mukada said. "Call me if you need anything."

"Of course," Micky said. "Thank you again."

"Thank you!" Marcy exclaimed pulling a floral print dress out of the bag. Mukada smiled and left. They spent the next couple of hours going through the bags of clothes, toys, and other stuff. Marcy decided to try some of the clothes she really liked on and she played with the toys and dolls for a while until Mike told her she should probably go to bed soon. She seemed a little disappointed but Peter opened the bag that Mukada had told him contained sheets for her. Her face lit up when she saw them and said they were pretty. Mike told her that he'd make her bed for her with her new sheets while she took a shower.

After Marcy gave Micky another tight hug to tell him good-night, Davy went to help Mike and Patty put some of the clothes in her room and make sure her bed was ready for her to sleep in while Peter helped Micky get ready for bed. He guided Micky to his bed, despite Micky's protests that he could sleep on the floor, and carefully cleaned and bandaged Micky's incision for the night like the doctor instructed. Half an hour later, Mike and Davy walked in telling Micky they had put Marcy to bed and she was sound asleep now. All four boys knew they would sleep well that night and Peter felt good for the first time in a while, despite the fact there were still people out there that wanted to hurt them.

"Guys," Micky said as they were all falling asleep, "thank you so much for helping me with Marcy."

"Don't mention it, Micky," Mike said. "We're family. That's what a real family is supposed to do."


	36. School

Author's Note: Yeah, a little break before I get to take physics this summer. Just waiting on one more grade for this semester to know if I brought my GPA up to where it needs to be. Here's hoping for that 3.5.

Chapter 36: School

The next morning Micky woke up and felt pain in his stomach and head. He groaned a little and rolled over clutching his stomach. He was overwhelmed with a sense of nausea and groaned again involuntarily. He heard movement next to him and assumed his groaning woke up one of his friends. He tried to be quieter, but moving hurt which elicited another involuntary groan. He felt someone sit on the edge of the bed and steady him a little.

"Micky, relax," Mike said. "Peter just went to go get your pain medication. Breathe."

"Here they are," Peter said a second later. Mike put a couple of pills in Micky's hand and helped him sit up. Micky put the pills in his mouth and let Mike carefully help him drink water before collapsing back on the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you guys up," Micky said after a moment.

"You didn't," Mike answered. "We were already awake. Have been for a while."

"What time is it?" Micky asked wondering why they'd been awake already.

"Almost 10," Peter answered. "Guess we should have woken you up a little earlier to give you your medicine, but we wanted you to sleep more. Sorry about that."

"It's ok," Micky answered. "Where's Davy?"

"In the kitchen with Patty," Peter answered.

"Is Marcy awake yet?" Micky asked.

"No, we thought we'd let her sleep in, too," Mike answered. As if on cue, Micky heard a scream coming from upstairs. Without hesitation, Micky leapt out of the bed and ran for the door. He could see vaguely where the door was and he heard Peter and Mike right behind him. Running up the stairs, Micky saw the outline of two other people he guessed to be Davy and Patty running ahead of him. Within a minute, they had made it up the stairs surprisingly without issue and into Marcy's room where she was still screaming. Micky ran over to where she was on the bed and wrapped her in his arms; there was no one else in the room.

"What happened, Marcy?" Mike asked sitting on the other side of the bed.

"I'm sorry," Marcy cried. "I had a nightmare."

"She's had those a lot lately," Patty offered.

"It's ok, Marcy," Micky said. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Mommy and Daddy were hurting me," she said hugging Micky back.

"That's not gonna happen again," Micky said. "I promise you, I won't let them anywhere near you again. You're safe now. I promise."

"Thank you, Micky," Marcy said.

"Tell you what, Marcy," Mike said, "why don't we go downstairs and make you some pancakes. There are a lot of toys that Agent Mukada brought for you to play with while I cook."

"Can I help?" Marcy asked.

"Make the pancakes?" Mike said. Micky could hear the smile in his voice. "Sure you can help. Have you ever made them before?"

"No," Marcy answered. "I've only had them at school. My teacher brought me some once. They were really good."

"Well, this will be a special treat then," Mike said. "I'll race you downstairs."

"Ok!" Marcy said and let go of Micky before taking off downstairs. Micky stood up to follow her downstairs but stopped when he felt the pain return to him.

"Relax and wait for the pain killers to work," Peter said putting his hand on Micky's shoulder to keep him on the bed. "You probably shouldn't have gotten up to begin with. I'm sure the adrenaline made you forget the pain, but now you need to rest."

"No," Micky said standing up slowly. "I need to move around. Just help me down the stairs."

"I don't know, Micky," Davy said. "I kind of agree with Peter. I think you should relax for a little bit."

"I'm fine," Micky argued. "I just want to go downstairs and rest."

"Ok," Peter said and took Micky's arm gently to lead him out of the room. When they got downstairs he heard Marcy giggling and Micky smiled. Maybe this would work after all. He could vaguely see Mike and Marcy as they made pancakes in the kitchen. Mike let her stir the batter and pour it in the pan, which made for some pretty weird shaped pancakes, but they were having fun. This was probably the most fun Marcy had ever had before. After they ate, where Marcy had insisted on sitting next to Micky, Peter and Davy cleaned up and Marcy asked if she could look at Mike's guitar. Mike led her over and showed it to her. He actually even let her hold it for a little while. The next several hours were occupied with Marcy going through the bags Agent Mukada had brought.

Not much was different over the next week. Micky's vision got better with each day and most mornings he was able to wake up with minimal pain, though Mike, Peter and Davy rarely let him sleep long enough for the pain meds to wear off again. They tried to let Marcy sleep in a lot, but she had nightmares on a regular basis still. Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night screaming, but sometimes she wouldn't wake up until later in the morning. Each time she woke up screaming, Micky and the others would run upstairs to comfort her and she would calm down pretty quickly. Throughout the day Peter would sit and color with Marcy in the coloring books, Davy would play with her and the toys (including a small plastic little tea set which Micky and the others found funny), and Mike would sit and show her the guitar and let her help him cook. At night before she went to bed, the boys would even play for her a little and Mike told Micky that her face would absolutely light up at every song they played for her. At the end of the week after Marcy went to bed, the four friends sat down with Patty to relax before going to bed themselves.

"You should probably think about signing her up for school soon," Patty said. "I think school starts up again in a week."

"Yeah, but I don't know if this is going to be permanent," Micky said.

"I think it's working out," Peter said with a smile in his voice.

"Yeah, for now," Micky said. "But we still have the situation of me being jobless and having no income. I can't even go apply for jobs until my sight comes back the rest of the way. I can see a few things, but I can't make out details yet."

"Don't worry about that so much yet," Mike said. "I've been reading the paper and there's a few gigs coming up we might audition for to hold us over for a while. You don't need your sight to sing."

"That's true," Micky said. "But I'm still kind of nervous about doing this."

"Doing what?" Patty asked.

"Raising a child," Micky answered. "Like the school thing: it totally slipped my mind. I should have been getting ready to do this a week ago when she first got here."

"Well, in your defense," Patty said, "I think you've been a bit preoccupied with other things."

"Yeah, but that's not going to be an excuse for long," Micky said.

"Well, let's just take things one step at a time," Mike said. "Tomorrow you and I can go down to the school and get her registered."

"Don't you need her birth certificate and medical records for that?" Peter pointed out.

"Probably," Micky said. "I don't have any of that stuff."

"I asked Mukada and he told me that they didn't find anything at your parents place," Mike said.

"That doesn't surprise me," Micky answered. "That stuff isn't real important to them. They probably just kept it long enough to register her for school."

"Well, the state has her birth certificate on file," Mike added. "Mukada said we can call the county and have them send us a copy, but we have to pay for it and it'll take a couple of weeks to get it in the mail. I'm not sure about her medical records."

"We can probably get those from her doctor," Peter said. "Assuming she had one."

"She must have if she'd been vaccinated," Davy said. "And she would have had to have been vaccinated to go to school."

"The question is: can we get those records?" Micky asked. "I'm not her legal guardian yet. It's all temporary until they catch my parents."

"Probably," Patty said. "We'll talk to Mukada about that. There should be some legal document he can get for us that gives you guardianship status."

"But how long until we can get them?" Micky asked. "If school starts in a week, we need them before that to register her."

"Well, maybe we can explain the circumstances to the principal or something and work something out," Mike said.

"Ok," Micky agreed. "I don't want her falling behind. The last thing she needs right now is to have more fallout from this mess. The nightmares are bad enough."

"Great," Davy said with a yawn. "I'm going to bed." The others nodded and they all decided to follow Davy to bed. Marcy finally had a night where she didn't have a nightmare and woke up on her own. Micky told her that he and Mike were going to go to the local school and look at getting her enrolled which excited her. She begged Micky to let her go with them, so the boys decided that they would all go together. Once they all climbed in the car, it didn't take them long to head to the school that was nearby. When they got to the local school, Peter and Davy decided to stay in the car while the others went into the principal's office to talk to him about Marcy. The receptionist told them to have a seat and wait until the principal finished the phone call he was on. They didn't wait very long for him to finish and followed him inside his office.

"I'm Mr. Moody," the principal said. "How can I help you?"

"This is my sister Marcy," Micky started. "I'm Micky Dolenz and these are my friends Mike and Patty. We need to register Marcy for school, I guess. But, see, we don't really have much information for her. Like her records and stuff."

"Why not?" Mr. Moody asked.

"Well, it's sort of really complicated," Micky said. "Our parents are child abusers. I ran away at a young age before she was even born so I didn't know about her until last month. I only just got custody of her a little while ago and because of that, I don't have any of her medical records or her birth certificate right now, but I can get it; I just don't want her to fall behind."

"I understand that," Mr. Moody said. "And that's good that you don't want her to fall behind, but there are certain things I need to do by law. I need a birth certificate on file and I need to prove she's been vaccinated before I can let her around other children."

"We appreciate that," Mike said. "It's just going to take some time to get that stuff because the custody situation isn't quite legal yet. Their parents are on the run from the cops, so custody has only been transferred temporarily. We just want to make sure that we do what needs to be done. Is there something we can work out?"

"What school did she go to before?" Mr. Moody asked.

"Umm…I don't know," Micky answered.

"I went to Shea Elementary," Marcy answered.

"Let me give them a call," Mr. Moody said and picked up the phone. He punched in a number and they waited in silence for a while for someone to answer. He asked the person on the other end if he could speak to someone in charge of the records and asked for information on Marcy explaining she was a possible transfer student with paperwork issues. He verified with them that Marcy had all the proper paperwork for them, including vaccinations. They also told them she was a good student with very good grades. "They said that you were a good student over there and that they have the proper paperwork, so I don't see why we can't get her started. The only thing we need is a copy of those records from her old school. You should be able to go there any time and pick that stuff up and bring it back here. In the meantime, we can get everything else started."

"Thank you so much," Micky said breathing a sigh of relief.

"Just fill out this paperwork as best as you can for me," Mr. Moody said handing Micky a clipboard with a paper on it and a pen.

"I'll take it," Mike offered when Micky hesitated. "He sort of had a little accident and can't see too well right now. That's why we're here. He can make out shapes, but nothing in detail."

"I'm very sorry," Mr. Moody said sincerely.

"That's ok," Marcy said leaning against Micky's arm. "He promised he's going to get better."

"I'm sure he will with you helping him out," Mr. Moody said. "One thing I wanted to suggest to you, Mr. Dolenz. We have a very good counseling program here at the school. I can talk to the guidance counselor and make sure that we get Marcy in to see her regularly if you want. With what you said about having abusive parents, counseling could be very helpful."

"Absolutely," Micky said.

"What's that?" Marcy asked.

"It's a program run by a school counselor," Patty explained. "A school counselor is a grown-up who you can talk to about what's on your mind and if you are having a problem or are scared, they can help you figure things out. It's their job to listen and help kids solve problems."

"She'll help me not be scared?" Marcy asked.

"Yep," Micky answered. "Does that sound like something you want to do?"

"Yes," Marcy answered.

"Good," Mr. Moody said. "Her name is Miss Fletcher and she's really good with kids. I'll introduce her to you next week." Mike finished the paperwork a few minutes later after Mr. Moody started explaining some of the things Marcy would be learning in school. Micky promised to be back within a couple of days to drop off the copies of Marcy's birth certificate and medical records and the four of them left. When they reached the doors leading to the parking lot, Micky heard a sound that made his blood run cold. All of them froze just outside the door and Marcy ran behind Micky and clung to him when they heard it.

"Was that a gunshot?" Mike asked.


	37. Give Me a Reason

Author's Note: Read and review!

Chapter 37: Give Me a Reason

"Was that a gunshot?" Mike asked, his heart sinking into his stomach. He ran over to the window and peered outside with Micky right behind him. What he saw made his heart sink even further. The car was parked out front, but he didn't see anyone inside it anymore.

"I can't see that far," Micky said.

"I think they may have run off into the trees," Mike said seeing movement in the tree line right behind the car. But he couldn't make any people out through the trees.

"I think I recognize that blue car," Micky said. "Take Marcy and run back to the principal's office and call for help."

"No, I don't want to leave you!" Marcy pled.

"Marcy, go with Mike and Patty," Micky said kneeling down next to Marcy. "You'll be safe, ok."

"What about you, Micky?" Mike asked growing concerned for his friend. "You're half blind; don't tell me that you're going to go out there alone."

"I'm not half blind," Micky answered standing back up and speaking quietly to Mike. "I think I know that car which means it's probably my parents. They aren't going to kill me until they find Marcy, too. I'm just gonna go get Davy and Peter. You're going to call Mukada for help. I need to make sure Marcy stays safe. I can't worry about her and them."

"I'm going with you," Mike said.

"No," Micky answered firmly which startled Mike a little. Micky never took charge like that. "If I'm wrong and that's your father, then you'd be dead within a second. If I'm right and it's my parents, they'll keep me alive to find Marcy. I need you to keep her safe. I trust you." Without waiting for a response, Micky took off down the hallway towards the doors. Mike desperately wanted to follow him, but suddenly they heard another gunshot ring out and Marcy suddenly started crying. Micky turned long enough to make sure Mike, Patty, and Marcy were unharmed before he continued through the doors.

"Mike," Patty said looking sternly at Mike. "We have to go." Mike grabbed Marcy, picked her up and started running down the hallway. When they reached a classroom, they ran inside.

"I'm gonna go call Mukada," Patty said. "Stay here with her. Away from the windows."

"Be careful," Mike answered.

"Mike, I'm scared," Marcy said sobbing.

"I know, sweetie, but I'm here," Mike said kneeling next to her and tucking her hair behind her ears. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise."

"What about Micky and Peter and Davy?" Marcy cried.

"Everything's going to be ok, sweetie," Mike said pulling her close to him. As he did, another gunshot rang out and Marcy screamed and started shaking with fear. Mike sat on the floor and pulled Marcy into his lap. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and sobbed into his shoulder. "Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine." Mike carefully stroked her hair to try and keep her calm and relaxed. It seemed to work at least a little as she stopped shaking at least. After a few minutes, Patty came back and locked the door to the classroom behind her.

"Mukada is on his way," Patty said and sat down next to Mike. "I told the principal what happened and he's making sure the rest of his staff is safe."

"Good," Mike answered.

"How you doing, sweetie?" Patty asked placing a hand on Marcy back.

"I'm scared," she answered tearfully.

"I know," Patty answered. "Me too. But Mike is going to keep us safe in here."

"I know, but what about Micky?" Patty asked.

"He knows how to take care of himself," Patty answered. "He's gonna be ok." Mike looked at Patty hoping they were both right and that Micky would be ok. Patty seemed a little pale, but Mike assumed it was just because she was worried about what was happening. Her brother was missing and they'd now heard three gunshots. Mike had to focus on the idea that if someone had wanted to simply kill Peter and Davy, they would have done so instead of taking them into the tree line. And hopefully Micky was right and he knew what he was doing. They sat there for several minutes trying to calm Marcy down when Mike noticed Patty holding her stomach as though she were in pain but trying to hide it.

"Patty, are you ok?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Patty answered unconvincingly.

"Are you sure?" Mike asked.

"Just a little pain," Patty answered. "Maybe a little dizzy."

"When's the last time you went to the doctor?" Mike asked.

"Before I came out here," Patty answered.

"Yeah, maybe we need to make that a priority," Mike said as he realized it had probably been about 2 months since she'd had a check-up. And being pregnant with the stress of everything that was happening was probably not a good thing.

"Patty?" Marcy asked pulling away from Mike a little. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, sweetie," Pattie answered offering a smile to Marcy. Marcy laid her head down on Mike's chest and they sat there like that for another few minutes before they finally heard the sirens of the police cars approaching. Patty stood up quickly to get ready to flag them down, but she suddenly raised her hand to her head and fell back into the wall.

"Patty?" Mike asked standing up with Marcy still clinging to him.

"I'm just a little dizzy," Patty answered.

"Take it easy," Mike said. "Just relax." Marcy closed her eyes for a minute and focused her breathing and Mike instinctively readied himself to catch her in case she fell again. Instead she cried out in pain and clutched her stomach.

"Patty?" Marcy said worriedly.

"Marcy, I need you to let go for a minute," Mike said trying to stay calm so as not to freak out Marcy. He could tell something was wrong with Patty and he didn't want Marcy to be any more scared than she already was.

"I'm ok," Patty said as Marcy let go of Mike.

"Patty, sit down," Mike said softly helping her sit back down on the floor. "We need to get you to see a doctor. Something's wrong."

"What's wrong with Patty?" Marcy asked.

"I don't know, sweetie, but I need you to stay here next to her," Mike said. "I'm going to go let those police officers know where we are. Can you do that for me? Can you stay right here next to Patty and don't go anywhere unless you see me, Micky, Peter, or Davy come in here?" Marcy nodded and sat down next to Patty. "Ok, I'll be right back. Just relax and hang tight."

* * *

Micky ran out the door of the school. He wasn't sure he really recognized the car, but he was pretty sure he did. He couldn't see the details on it, but it looked similar to a car owned by a friend of his parents named Rugen. He was a man that had come over frequently when he was a kid and always laughed at Micky being forced to clean the house and egging his father on when he'd hit Micky. Rugen and his father were always close, but Micky had nearly forgotten about him until he saw the car. Who else would help harbor his parents from the police? The only question now was did he bring them to the school looking for Micky and Marcy or did they come on their own? Rugen wasn't really the type of man to do anything on his own; he always needed the encouragement and support of Micky's father to do anything.

Once outside, Micky verified that this was Rugen's car when he looked in the backseat and saw the blanket Rugen always kept back there. Micky never understood why he had a blanket back there when he was a kid, but now he had an idea and rolled his eyes at the thought. With his vision hampered, his other senses had kicked up a little. He could smell the strong aftershave Rugen always used and heard twigs cracking in the distance. He followed the sound through the tree line that Mike had thought his friends had been taken into. After a minute, he heard another gunshot close by and ran towards the sound. Pretty quickly he was able to hear people talking.

"Shut up!" Micky's father yelled as Micky ducked behind a large bush. "Hurry and gag them up so I don't have to listen to them."

"What do you want with us?" Davy asked.

"To start with, you're bait," George answered. He peered through the bush and could just make out Peter and Davy being tied back to back by Rugen with his mother and father standing nearby. His father had a gun pointed directly at Davy's head. "Lure Micky and Marcy away from the school and witnesses."

"So then you're going to kill us?" Peter asked.

"Absolutely," George answered. "Can't have any witnesses around. But first, you little English twit are going to suffer."

"Why?" Peter asked his voice filled with fear.

"Because the little brat shot my wife," George barked. Micky looked around for a way to free Peter and Davy. Micky knew what George was capable of and knew he had to get them out fast before George turned his wrath on Davy. "That's why we couldn't kill you sooner. Had to nurse her back to health and I promised her that I would make him pay."

"I'm sorry, but you were trying to kill us," Davy said fearfully.

"Do you know how much it hurts to be shot?" Micky's mom asked.

"I didn't even know I shot you!" Davy said. "I wasn't trying to; I was trying to get you to leave us alone!"

"Shut up!" George barked. "I don't care! You shot my wife and I'm going to shoot you! She spent the last month in miserable agony because of you, you little twerp!" Micky saw a large round rock lying a few feet away and gripped it in his hand to get a feel for the weight. Then he quietly stood up when he was sure that Rugen and his parents had their backs to him. He aimed and threw the rock directly at Rugen's head and took off running so he wouldn't be in the same spot when the rock connected. He ducked behind a tree and heard the rock make contact with Rugen's head and the thump of his body hitting the ground.

"What the hell?" Brenda asked and slowly moved to investigate Rugen. "Someone threw a rock."

"Micky, where are you?" George asked. "I know that was you."

"You have about 5 seconds to show yourself or we shoot your friends," Brenda added. Micky kicked another rock toward the bush hoping it would make just enough noise to lure one of them over there. He'd hoped they would come out and look for him so he could take them on one at a time.

"I heard that," George said pointing the gun by the bushes and squinting to try and find Micky.

"Don't be a coward, Micky," Brenda said angrily. They still weren't going to separate which was going to make this harder.

"You're five seconds are up, boy," George said and turned the gun back on Davy.

"Wait!" Micky yelled from behind the tree. He put his hands up and slowly walked out from behind it.

"Where's your sister?" Brenda asked.

"Yeah, I really don't want to tell you that," Micky answered.

"She's still at the school," George smiled. "I'll kill you then search every inch of that school for her."

"You do and you'll have about a dozen witnesses you'll have to kill from the staff alone," Micky said. "That's a lot of work, don't you think? I don't even think you have enough bullets in that gun. You've already wasted 3 on what I can only assume were warning shots seeing as how my friends aren't bleeding."

"Bring her back here," Brenda said. "Or we'll kill them."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Micky asked taking a few tentative steps closer to them. "You're going to kill them no matter what. I heard you. And I know you can't leave any witnesses behind. Even though the cops will know you killed us anyway."

"Doesn't matter," George snapped. "We don't really plan on sticking around."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Micky said taking a few more steps toward his father. "You've got the entire police department and even the FBI searching for you. Getting out of the country might be a good idea. But how are you going to get there? You don't think they don't have airports monitored for you? That's how they know you didn't leave. Not to mention it'll be impossible for you to cross the border without getting caught."

"What are you saying?" Brenda asked.

"Well, maybe you'd be able to flee better if you had a hostage," Micky proposed.

"Micky!" Peter exclaimed.

"Shut up," George snapped pointing the gun at Peter.

"Peter, I know what I'm doing," Micky said trying to silently tell him to keep his mouth closed and he had a plan.

"Do you?" Brenda asked.

"Yes," Micky said. "I'll volunteer to be your hostage for however far you want to go just so long as you let my friends go and leave Marcy alone."

"Not gonna happen," George sneered. "Why don't we just kill you and use one of your friends as a hostage. I say we take the short twerp who shot your mother. Then we can make his suffering last longer."

"You really don't want to do that," Micky said.

"Back up," George snapped realizing Micky was trying to get close to him. Micky stopped moving forward, but didn't back up.

"I can't see you that well," Micky said. "I've spent the last month in the hospital mostly blind and almost died. I need to get closer to you to see you."

"You don't need to see us," Brenda snapped.

"I don't believe you," George sneered.

"It's true," Davy said. "You're not the only ones who want to kill us. He really is partially blind."

"He walks into things all the time," Peter said. "Just this morning he stubbed his toe on the table."

"I don't care if he can see or not," George said. "Get back." Micky heard police sirens in the background and figured he'd stalled long enough. It seemed to take a second to register for Brenda and George to realize the cops were closing in on them. He was going to kill them all and run for it. Micky darted for his dad's gun just as he started to aim for Peter. Peter and Davy flattened themselves as much as they could to avoid being hit and Micky grabbed his father's arm and twisted it away from his friends. He inadvertently twisted it towards his mother just as his father was pulling the trigger and the gun went off a fourth time. This time, the bullet hit his mother. Time seemed to stop as George realized what had happened. Micky saw his father's face contort in rage like he'd never seen before and Micky felt that fear he had as a child rise up inside him. His first instinct was to run, but he couldn't leave his friends tied and vulnerable with his father that angry.

Micky twisted his father's arm even further to try and get him to at least drop the gun. His father threw his weight into Micky and pain erupted in his stomach causing him to drop. But he didn't let go of his father's arm knowing what would happen the second his father regained control of the gun, so his father fell on top of him. This caused even more pain to erupt in Micky's stomach and chest and he tried to hide just how much pain he was really in. Micky threw his head forward in the hopes he could get his father off him to reduce the pain. His father reared back in pain from the head-butt and did indeed roll off Micky. He took this opportunity to land a punch to his father's face that took his father even further off guard. His father roared in pain and Micky pressed his knee into his father's arm and twisted his wrist further so he could wrest the gun from his grip. It worked: as soon as Micky took the gun from his father and stood up pointing the gun at him.

"You wouldn't dare," George said when he realized Micky was pointing the gun at him.

"I'm not so sure," Micky spat back. "You tortured me for 12 years. You abused me mentally and physically. You beat me mercilessly until I could barely even move half the time. You made me wish I was dead. I ran away and lived in a damn storage container on the streets stealing food or digging through trash just to eat because it was better than the hell you put me through. Then you did the same thing to my sister. Give me one good reason **not** to pull this trigger."

"Micky, don't!" Peter said. "He's not worth it."

"Micky, don't become a killer for him," Davy added.

"I don't even think you have the balls," George sneered.

"Don't tempt me," Micky snapped cocking the gun. His father shrunk away in fear a little thinking Micky would actually pull the trigger. Micky knew he couldn't though. No matter what he went through, he couldn't kill his father. He knew it was wrong, but he needed his father to think he would so he would be too afraid to try and fight back. He had to keep his friends safe and he was in too much pain to keep fighting. In the distance he heard the police closing in. He called out to them to let them know where they were and within a minute, the police had found them. Micky handed over the gun and the officers called for EMS to come take care of Rugen and his mother. She had been shot in the stomach and was bleeding a lot, but Micky didn't care. As soon as the police placed handcuffs on his father, Micky collapsed to the ground, his stomach and chest roaring in pain. As soon as Peter and Davy were untied, they rushed over to Micky.

"Are you ok?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," Micky answered.

"You shouldn't have done that," Davy said. "You could have just hurt your injuries again. You're still healing."

"Yeah, if I hadn't, you'd be dead," Micky snapped. "So you should be thanking me for saving your butt."

"That's not what I meant," Davy said. "I am grateful you saved us, but…"

"I know," Micky said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"Where are Mike, Patty and Marcy?" Peter asked.

"They're fine," Micky told him. "I told them to hide in the school."

"Maybe you should have hid and sent Mike to save us," Davy said a little hesitantly not wanting to upset Micky again.

"We didn't know who took you," Micky answered. "If it had been my parents, I knew they wouldn't kill me until they found Marcy. Mike's dad would have killed him without hesitation."

"Are you alright, sir?" said a medic kneeling down.

"He just had surgery about a month ago," Peter said. "He had some heart and lung and stomach problems. He may have reinjured himself; his father fell on top of him pretty hard."

"I'm fine," Micky said.

"Let me be the judge of that?" the medic said. "Let me take a look at your incision." The medic lifted up Micky's shirt and he inhaled sharply from the pain.

"Can you go to the hospital to get looked at please?" Davy pled. "Just to make sure you're ok."

"Your friend is right," the medic said. "You have a bruise forming already, so you need to make sure it's nothing serious."

"Fine," Micky said and allowed the medic to help lead him back to the school so they could get to an ambulance.


	38. Stress and Bed Rest

Author's Note: Read and review as always. I do so love reading the reviews. :D Thanks to my friend, the real Miss Fletcher, for helping me with the counseling stuff.

Chapter 38: Stress and Bed Rest

Micky walked with the medics into the parking lot of the school and looked around for Mike, Patty and Marcy. When he saw Agent Mukada walk out of the building with them, Mike was supporting Patty with his arm around her waist. She looked sick; like she was going to pass out at any moment. Marcy was walking next to them holding Patty's hand. Peter saw them soon after they walked out the double doors and immediately ran the few feet over to Patty. Marcy saw Micky and broke away from Patty and ran toward Micky.

"What happened?" Peter exclaimed helping Mike support Patty. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Peter," Patty said. "Just a little dizzy."

"You don't look fine," Peter argued. "Mike?"

"I don't know," Mike answered as they reached the ambulance the medics were helping Micky into. "Her stomach hurts and she keeps saying she feels lightheaded."

"We'll take her to the hospital and get her checked out," Agent Mukada said. "But it's probably stress."

"Is Micky ok?" Mike asked seeing Micky sit in the back of the ambulance.

"Yeah," Micky answered.

"He fought with his dad for control of the gun," Peter answered. Micky saw the medics carry his mother on a stretcher to another ambulance and he instinctively reached out to pull Marcy close to him. He didn't want her to see her that way so turned her so that her back was to them and couldn't see.

"Maybe I should have gone with you," Mike said.

"Look, what's done is done," Micky answered. "We didn't know what we were dealing with. I'm fine; just a little pain. Nothing to worry about."

"Ok, both of you in the ambulance," Davy said firmly. "Neither of you appear fine to me at all. Mike, Peter, Marcy and I will follow you and meet you there. No arguing."

"No one is arguing," Micky said having already agreed to go to the hospital. Marcy looked worriedly at Micky to make sure he was ok. He squeezed her gently to let her know he was ok. "I'll be fine, Marcy. Go with Mike and the others. I'll see you in a little bit." Mike picked Marcy up and carried her out to the car with Peter and Davy. Micky moved aside to let Patty climb into the ambulance as well. Once she was inside, the medic climbed in the back with them and closed the doors. He banged on the side wall of the ambulance and someone up front started the ambulance and began to drive. On the way to the hospital, the medics took both Micky and Patty's heart rates and other vital information.

When they got to the hospital, nurses were already waiting for them with wheelchairs. Micky was wheeled into one room with Patty into the next room. After a couple hours and several tests, the doctors let Mike into the room with Marcy. She had a big smile on her face and Mike picked her up and set her on the end of Micky's bed.

"Be careful now, Marcy," Mike cautioned. "He's still fragile."

"I am not fragile," Micky laughed.

"You do need to take it easy," Mike said.

"How's Patty?" Micky asked.

"She's fine," Mike answered. "We've been with her for about an hour now while they finished your tests. They said she's just really stressed and that's taking a toll on the baby. I guess it was something about the placenta tearing a little."

"That sounds serious," Micky said. "Is the baby ok?"

"The baby's fine," Mike said quickly. "They said that the tear was small and she'll recover just fine as long as she lowers her stress levels. They said bed rest and relaxation with constant monitoring."

"I'm gonna help take care of her," Marcy said smiling brightly. "The nurse gave me this "little helper" sticker!" Micky smiled and looked at the sticker she was so happily pointing at. It was a large, round sticker with a smiley face on it that said "little helper".

"Well, that's great," Micky said smiling. "I'm sure you'll do a great job."

"Alright, Micky," Dr. Townsend said coming in the room with a smile. "I hate to see you back here so soon, but it looks like you're going to be fine. You did re-injure your spleen a little, but nothing that a little rest can't heal."

"So he's gotta be on bed rest, too?" Marcy asked.

"Yes, he does," Dr. Townsend said with a smile. "You must be the wonderful Miss Marcy I've heard so much about."

"I am," she giggled shyly.

"Well, I'm Dr. Townsend," he said. "Are you going to make sure Micky stays in bed for a while?"

"Yep," Marcy said smiling. Micky knew she wasn't used to people being this nice to her and was really enjoying it. "And Patty, too."

"Well, that means I'm going to have to make you a junior nurse," Dr. Townsend said smiling at her.

"What does that mean?" Marcy asked.

"Well, it means I'm going to have to deputize you as a junior nurse," Dr. Townsend said. "If you're going to take care of Micky and Patty, you need to be a junior nurse. Those are the rules."

"How do I get to be that?" Marcy asked.

"Well, raise your hand," Dr. Townsend said raising his hand to show her. Marcy happily complied and did what he told her to. "Now, repeat after me. I, Marcy Dolenz…"

"I, Marcy Dolenz," Marcy repeated.

"Vow to make sure my patients stay in bed," he continued pausing long enough for Marcy to repeat him. "Make sure they drink a lot of water, and give them lots of hugs."

"Am I a junior nurse now?" Marcy asked.

"You sure are," Dr. Townsend said. "Now, if Micky or Patty tries to do too much and get out of bed before they're allowed to, I want you to tell Mike or Davy or Peter. Can you do that?"

"Yep!" Marcy said.

"Thank you, Dr. Townsend," Micky said smiling at how happy Marcy was.

"Don't worry, this time we'll make sure they both stay in bed," Mike said.

"I really don't want to be confined to my bed," Micky said.

"But you have to get better," Marcy pointed out.

"I know," Micky answered. "But I also have to take care of you. And I don't like not moving around."

"Yes, getting you to sit still will be next to impossible," Mike laughed. "But you have to take care of yourself. And Peter, Davy, and I can help take care of Marcy."

"It's only for a few weeks, Micky," Dr. Townsend said. "And you can get up and walk around, but for no more than a few minutes every several hours. It's not like I'm saying they have to tie you to your bed. But you need to be off your feet and resting as much as you can. Same orders of no heavy lifting, sudden movements, take your medicine, but now you need to rest more."

"I understand," Micky said. "And I'll take it easy."

"Good," Dr. Townsend said. "Marcy, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," Marcy said.

"Can you go get me a cup of water to give to Micky?" Dr. Townsend said. "Right outside the room is a counter with cups and a sink." Marcy nodded and did as she asked. Dr. Townsend turned back to Micky when she left with a serious look. It was obvious he wanted to talk to Micky without her hearing. "Alright, I don't know if you care or not, but I thought I'd let you know how your mother is. She made it out of surgery just fine a couple of minutes ago. When she wakes up, she'll be read her rights and placed under arrest. Once she's recovered enough, she'll be transported to a prison infirmary to finish care."

"That's fine," Micky said. He wasn't really sure if he cared about whether or not his mother was going to be ok. He certainly hadn't meant for her to get shot, but he didn't think it would bother him much if she died.

"The other man that was there was identified as Robert Rugen," Dr. Townsend said. "We treated his injuries and transferred him to the prison an hour ago. He confessed to hiding your parents and helping take care of your mother after she apparently got shot."

"Did Davy really shoot her?" Micky asked.

"Yeah, I guess when they first ran from the hotel, Davy took their gun and shot the windshield out," Mike said. "Peter shot the tires out later. Davy feels kinda bad about it."

"He shouldn't," Micky said. "He was trying to save his life. And Peter's."

"Yeah, I tried to tell him that," Mike said.

"What about my father?" Micky asked. "Is he in jail yet?"

"Yes," Dr. Townsend said. "He spent an hour in questioning, but said absolutely nothing. Though it's pretty obvious what happened, so they don't really need him to talk."

"Mukada said he would come by later with the district attorney to get details on what happened when you were kids to decide exactly what to charge them with for those crimes," Mike added. "Right now, they're being charged with kidnapping and attempted murder."

"That's fine," Micky said.

"I got the water!" Marcy said coming back in happily. She gave the water to Micky who thanked her and drank it. Agent Mukada came in a few minutes later and Micky relayed what had happened in detail. After an hour, Dr. Townsend came back with the discharge paperwork and told them he and Patty would be allowed to go home. On the way home, Marcy told Peter, Davy and Patty about becoming a junior nurse. When they got home, Marcy immediately set about making a comfortable place for Micky and Patty to sit in the living room with the rest of them. Patty assured Micky that both she and the baby were fine and that the doctors had checked to make sure the baby's heartbeat was still normal. She would have to go to the doctor very regularly from here on out, but Mike, Peter, and Davy had all already agreed to make sure she made every appointment.

Over the next week, Marcy made sure to help Patty and Micky stay resting. She would help get glasses of water for them and bring them blankets to make sure they didn't get cold. At first Micky didn't want her doing any of that because it reminded him too much of how she had to do things for their parents, but Mike and Peter both told Micky that she was excited to be helping and that he shouldn't be upset by it. They told him that it was a good distraction for her to be able to take care of her brother and Patty, whom she now saw as a big sister. The first night back home, she had a nightmare and woke up screaming. Micky had tried to go up and take care of her, but Peter pushed him back into bed and told him that Mike and Davy would take care of it. The next night, Micky had let her read him a book on the couch before bed and she fell asleep after reading it. Mike had tried to carry her up to her bed, but Micky asked him to leave her there. He fell asleep not long after that and they slept comfortably all night. It was the first night she didn't have any nightmares, so it became routine for Micky to try and get her to fall asleep in his arms.

Everyone wanted Mike staying at home as often as possible because no one had as yet seen his father, so Peter and Davy went to Marcy's old school and got her records to bring them to her new one so she could start later that week. Micky argued relentlessly with them to allow him to actually see her off for her first day of school; they finally agreed to let him come if he agreed to stay at the car and not stand for too long. Peter and Davy had gone to the school to pick Marcy up when it was over and she excitedly told Micky about everything she had learned that day. She seemed to enjoy school, which wasn't a surprise to Micky as he had dove into it too when he was younger. It was the only escape they had and a way for them to focus their anger and frustration. She excitedly got ready for school each day and showed Micky her homework each day. Micky helped with what she needed help with, as did the others. She had also met with the school counselor on her 3rd day of school and Micky asked her about it when she got home.

"How do you like Miss Fletcher?" Micky asked.

"I like her," Marcy answered. "She's really nice and pretty."

"What did you do with her?" Micky asked.

"She let me color a picture and I talked to her about my nightmares," Marcy answered.

"Did she tell you how to handle them?" Micky asked.

"Yeah," Marcy said. "She asked me if I feel safe with you guys, and I told her that I do. I told her I'm happy here. That I have fun with you. She told me to remind myself of that when I go to sleep."

"That's good," Micky answered.

"She wants to see me once a week and we're going to talk about mommy and daddy," Marcy continued. "She has lots of crayons and some pretty dolls she says I can play with."

"That's great," Micky answered. "I'm glad you're feeling better. How's school?"

"I'm really bored," Marcy answered.

"Why?" Micky asked.

"It's really easy," Marcy answered.

"Have you talked to your teacher about that?" Micky asked. "Maybe she could give you something a little more complicated."

"No," Marcy admitted.

"Well, maybe I can talk to her tomorrow," Micky said.

"You can't," Marcy said. "You have to stay in bed! I promised the doctor!"

"I can go talk to the teacher," Peter said.

"I really should," Micky said.

"You need to stay home!" Marcy argued. "I want you to get better!"

"I will," Micky said. "But I also need to take care of you."

"Just relax," Peter said. "Marcy's right. You need to rest. I'll take her to school tomorrow and talk to her teacher. It'll get taken care of. Trust me." Micky relented and let Peter talk to her teacher when he dropped her off the next day. When he got home, Peter told Micky that the teacher would recommend that Marcy be tested for her skill level and that they would most likely do it later in the week. Micky relaxed a little knowing that his sister would be well protected and taken care of, even if he couldn't always do it himself.


	39. Doctors, Homework, and Car Problems

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. Had a huge writers block for both of my fics that I just couldn't get past till now.

Chapter 39: Doctors, Homework and Car Problems

"Are you ready, Patty?" Peter asked as he grabbed the keys off the counter. He was rather excited to be taking her to the doctor, but also nervous. He hoped that nothing else would go wrong.

"Yeah," she answered walking toward the door. The drive to the doctor didn't take very long and when they got there, Peter checked his sister in. The receptionist smiled at them and told them that it would take a few minutes before she would be called in. When she was called in, Peter wasn't sure if he should go back with her, but she smiled at him and told him to go with her. He waited outside long enough for her to change into the gown and went in to wait with her for the doctor.

"You ok?" Peter asked noticing that she looked a little nervous.

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm just really nervous."

"There's nothing to be nervous about," Peter said trying to calm her down. "I'm sure everything will be ok. You've done everything the doctors have asked you to so far."

"Except that so far was only last week," Patty said. "I should have come to see the doctor sooner."

"Well, considering that you've been trying to flee from our family for the past several months, I'd say there was a valid excuse," Peter offered. Before Patty could really answer, there was a knock on the door as the doctor checked to see if Patty was ready.

"Come in," Patty said.

"Hello, Miss Tork, I'm Dr. Sherwood," the doctor said.

"I'm Patty, and this is my brother," Patty said pointing to Peter. "Peter's here to support me."

"I see," Dr. Sherwood said. "It's nice to meet you both. So the nurse tells me you had a little problem with the baby. Why don't we start with that?"

"Yeah, I went to the ER and they said I tore the placenta a little," Patty answered. "They told me to rest, which I've done."

"And how are you feeling now?" Dr. Sherwood asked.

"Better," Patty answered.

"Any pain?" Dr. Sherwood answered.

"Just a little," Patty answered. "It hurt a lot when it first happened, but the pain has gotten a lot better now."

"Have you noticed any blood?" Dr. Sherwood asked.

"No," Patty answered.

"Ok, what about your history?" Dr. Sherwood asked. "Is this your first pregnancy?"

"Yes," Patty answered.

"And where's the father?"

"He…umm…he died."

"I'm very sorry to hear that. That must be hard for you."

"I honestly have been very distracted lately. It happened about 5 months ago."

"Well, at least you have your family here to help support you. Do you have a history of blood pressure problems?"

"No. I've been completely healthy my whole life. Never had any problems."

"What about your family? Parents? Uncles? Aunts? Siblings?"

"Not that I know of. Everyone's been pretty healthy as far as I know."

"Ok, well, it sounds like you're not in the high risk bracket. The only risk to you right now is that you're under a lot of stress. There are some relaxation techniques I can give you to try at home. Taking long baths, lighting some scented candles, stuff like that. I'm going to keep you on bed rest for a while until we're sure the danger has passed, but you do need to take it easy for the rest of the pregnancy, even after I've taken you off bed rest."

"We'll make sure that she stays relaxed," Peter said.

"Very good," Dr. Sherwood said. "Let's start with some blood tests first just to make sure everything is on track." Dr. Sherwood moved to draw a few vials of blood from Patty.

"What kind of tests?" Peter asked nervously as he watched Dr. Sherwood put a needle in his sister's arm.

"We need to check for things like anemia and other possible diseases, but with the history your family has, I doubt there's much to worry about," Dr. Sherwood answered. Peter cringed a little when Patty hissed in pain as the needle punctured her skin.

"I'm ok, Peter," Patty reassured him.

"I don't like needles much," Peter admitted.

"Most people don't," Dr. Sherwood smiled as he finished and put a bandage on her arm. "Alright, let's take a look at the baby." Dr. Sherwood draped a blanket over Patty and carefully maneuvered the gown so that just her belly showed. Peter hadn't realized just how big it was and it felt a little strange to Peter as he realized that his sister was carrying a baby in her stomach. Dr. Sherwood then pulled a large machine closer to Patty and put a goopy gel across her stomach before taking an attachment on the machine and moving it around on her stomach. Peter looked at the screen on the machine and slowly he could start to see an ultrasound image appear.

"I don't want to know the gender yet," Patty said. "I just want to know if it's healthy."

"That's fine," Dr. Sherwood said as he hit a few buttons on the machine. "Everything appears to be just fine so far. I'd say you're somewhere between 21 and 24 weeks along. The heartbeat is steady and strong. Everything looks good here." Peter looked at the image on the screen and could barely make out a human form.

"Is that the baby's head?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Dr. Sherwood said pointing at the screen. "Those are the hands and feet, too. Everything looks very healthy here. I'm going to take a few measurements to see how big the baby is and when you come back next week I'll compare them to make sure the development is on the right track. Can you tell me why you're so stressed?"

"It's complicated," Patty answered. "But mostly because people have been trying to kill me and my brother. But they're in jail now, mostly, so I'm starting to relax a little. And I don't have a job and I'm in a new city, so I have no idea how I'm going to support my baby. I've been looking around for jobs the past couple of weeks, but haven't been able to find much of anything."

"Well, there is a receptionist position opening in a few weeks here," Dr. Sherwood said. "You could apply for that if you like."

"Really?" Patty asked. "That would be great!"

"I'll get you the application when we're done here," Dr. Sherwood said with a smile. After about half an hour, Dr. Sherwood had told them all the ways she could relax and distress at home and they left to make another appointment the next week. When they got back to the house, they told the others about the possibility of Patty getting a job at the doctor's office. Mike helped Patty fill out the application as she had never really had a job before and had therefore never filled out an application. They all hoped that she would be able to get this job because she really needed a way to support the baby and there weren't really any other prospects for her. That unfortunately also meant there weren't many prospects for Micky either. He'd mumbled under his breath this comparison and Peter felt really bad for him. He knew Micky was stressing about getting a steady job too as he now had to support Marcy. At least Patty had a little time, whereas Micky didn't.

A few days later, Peter and Davy went to pick Marcy up from school and she seemed incredibly excited. She climbed into the back seat and was bouncing up and down on the seat with a very large smile on her face. Peter laughed a little when he saw her; she really looked a lot like Micky did when he got excited about something. Peter almost didn't want to ask why she was so happy because he knew that when Micky answered a question like that, he was too difficult to understand. But Davy's curiosity won out and he posed the question to her.

"You look happy," Davy laughed.

"I am!" Marcy announced. Peter was actually able to understand her, though she still spoke very fast. "My teacher told me that I did really well on my tests and she said that I am well above my grade level in a lot of areas. So she told me that she was going to see if Mr. Moody could put me in some advanced classes and she gave me some harder homework problems so I don't get bored anymore."

"Oh?" Davy asked. "Like how much harder?"

"The rest of the class is reading a book I read two years ago," Marcy answered pulling a book out of the backpack that Agent Mukada had given her. "So she said that I could write my book report on this book instead." Peter looked in the rearview mirror fast enough to see that she had a copy of _James and the Giant Peach _in her hand.

"I heard that was a good book," Davy chuckled.

"She also gave me some harder math problems, too," Marcy answered. She continued to bounce and babble about her homework the whole way home. Peter chuckled a little as he realized just how like Micky she really was, which was surprising because they hadn't even known each other 2 months ago. When they got home, Marcy excitedly told everyone else about how she was so far ahead of everyone else in her class and showed Micky her homework. The next day, Peter and Davy took Marcy back in to school with her homework finished. She was excited to show the teacher how well she'd done and that she'd only needed Peter to help her with a couple of math problems. Once Peter and Davy got back into the car, Peter pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive back home. At a stop light, Peter noticed a ragged looking man in a hooded sweatshirt walking towards the car. He tensed up for some reason, but before he could drive away, he realized why his instincts were right. The man pulled a gun out of his pocket and pointed it at Davy while climbing in the backseat.

"Drive," the man ordered.

"Where?" Peter asked as he and Davy immediately stiffened.

"Just take a left up here," the man said. Peter did as instructed and tried to think of anything they could do to get out of this. He snuck a peek in the rearview mirror, but couldn't see who this man was. The man had a very scruffy beard and thick sunglasses, but Peter knew he could probably guess who it was. "Pull into the parking lot." The man ordered pointing at a deserted lot. He then directed Peter to drive behind the building and Peter had no choice but to do as instructed. Peter noticed that there were no windows looking down on them and that meant no one would see what was happening.

"Please don't hurt us," Davy tried, but Peter knew begging was probably fruitless.

"Shut up and get out," the man said getting out of the car with them. "Keep your hands where I can see them. And you do anything stupid, and I kill you."

"What do you want?" Davy asked. The man smiled and took off his sunglasses. Peter suspicions were confirmed and he heard Davy let out a small whine as he realized who this was.

"I want my son," Vern Nesmith spat. "I'm tired of waiting for him to come out of hiding and your house is crawling with cops, so I've been left with no other option."

"That's not really true," Peter said trying to reason with him. "You could turn yourself in and the cops might go easy on you."

"Are you some kind of idiot?" Vern barked. "I killed 2 cops! No one is going to go easy on me. They'll kill me given the first chance."

"So you could always run," Davy said. "Flee the country."

"I plan on doing that," Vern snapped. "But first things first. One of you is going to deliver a message and the other is going to come with me."

"Deliver a message?" Peter asked his mind racing. Did that mean he was going to let one of them go?

"You really are stupid, aren't you?" Vern sneered. "How else am I supposed to get him to come running to your rescue so I can kill him? He's too surrounded by cops now and if I take one of you hostage, I know he'll ditch his security detail to come rescue you. But one of you needs to tell him where to find me."

"And what if he doesn't?" Davy asked.

"Then I kill the other one," Vern answered as if it were a stupid question. "And there is to be no cops involved. I have a police scanner and if I hear even so much as a peep, I will shoot someone's brains out."

"Ok, take me then," Peter said.

"Peter!" Davy hissed.

"Don't argue with me on this, Davy," Peter said. "Let Davy deliver the message and take me."

"Fine by me," Vern said. "I don't care which of you goes with me. Get back in the car." Peter did as he was told, even though Davy tried to pull him back. He'd been kidnapped numerous times already and survived. Even if he didn't survive this time, at least he knew Davy would be ok. Peter got back in the driver's seat and watched as Vern led Davy to a post next to the building and tied him to it in a seated position.

"How is he going to deliver a message if he's tied up?" Peter asked jumping out of the car angrily.

"Shut up and get back in the car," Vern barked. "I need to buy a little time. Just in case this little twerp goes to the cops. I'm not going to make it easy to find me. We're going to be leaving little clues for Michael to follow."

"I thought you said you had a police scanner?" Davy asked angrily.

"I do," Vern barked. "But this will also buy me time to get away and run if the cops come. Besides, it will further discourage Michael from wanting to call the cops. Someone will eventually find you and untie you."

"And how do you know they won't call the cops before they untie me?" Davy asked.

"I'm trusting that you won't tell them the truth even if they do," Vern sneered at Davy before turning back to Peter. "Now get into the car before I change my mind and leave you here instead." Peter reluctantly got back into the car and continued to watch Vern finish tying up Davy.

"You know Mike is going to kill you if you hurt Peter," Davy said.

"I doubt that," Vern laughed. "And as long as you do what I say, I won't hurt him. Now, you'll tell Michael to go to the train station and he'll find the first clue there. Room 212."

"There are no rooms in a train station," Davy said.

"Shut up," Vern said and smacked Davy over the head with the butt of the gun. Davy immediately went limp and Peter saw blood trickle down his face.

"Davy!" Peter cried jumping back out of the car.

"I'm not going to tell you again to get your sorry butt back in that car!" Vern barked pointing the gun at Peter.

"You said you weren't going to hurt him!" Peter argued.

"I never said that," Vern answered. "But like I said: I need time. I can't have him screaming for help yet. He'll wake up soon enough. He's just unconscious. Now get in the car. I don't technically need you to be alive for this to work. Just need Michael to think you are." Peter hesitated again, but did as instructed. He could only hope that Davy would indeed wake up and be ok.


	40. Messenger

Author's Note: As always, read and review!

Chapter 40: Messenger

Micky sat in the kitchen watching Mike clean up the dishes from breakfast. Peter and Davy had just left with Marcy to take her to school and that meant that Mike was left to clean the dishes. Micky had tried to help, but Mike had insisted that he stay relaxed. Even though he'd mostly healed and his vision had mostly come back, he was still on bed rest with Patty so he also wasn't allowed to go with the others to drop Marcy off. Peter and Davy had been going together all this week because they thought it better to stay in groups of two in case something happened; at least as long as Vern Nesmith still on the loose and after Mike. That also meant that Mike had to stay at home until everything blew over. Normally Mike would have objected to this, but Micky knew that taking care of Micky and Patty took his mind off things. And if it weren't for Mike, Micky knew that he and Patty wouldn't be resting as much as they should have been. When Mike had finished the dishes, they went to practice some songs a little while waiting for Davy and Peter to return. They had gone through two songs before Micky realized that it had been too long since they'd left.

"Hey, they should have been back by now," Micky pointed out to Mike. "You don't think something happened to them, do you?"

"I'm sure they're fine," Mike answered absently picking out a tune on his guitar.

"Mike, they should have been home at least half an hour ago," Micky argued. "The school is literally like 5 minutes away." Mike slowly looked up at him as though realizing how much time had really passed since they left.

"Yeah," Mike said. "Ok, you're right."

"Should we go look for them?" Patty suggested.

"You guys stay here," Mike said. "I'll go look."

"No way," Micky argued jumping up and running toward the door. "I'm going with you."

"What about Patty?" Mike said. "Someone needs to stay here and watch her."

"I'm fine," Patty argued. "You guys go."

"Are you sure?" Mike asked.

"Positive," Patty answered. "Go."

"Ok, if we're not back in an hour, call Mukada," Mike instructed as they rushed out the front door. "Ok, we walk toward the school and see if we can find them. They wouldn't have gone anywhere else. At least not willingly."

"Agreed," Micky said as they set off toward the school. They'd been walking only 10 minutes, looking up and down alleys in case they had gotten into a car accident and behind buildings when Micky saw something that stopped his heart. They were still far away and his vision was a little slow, but he could still see a small, dark-haired figure sitting slumped over on the ground next to a post. Micky reached out and slapped Mike on the arm to get his attention and started running toward the figure.

"Davy!" Mike exclaimed when they got close enough to confirm who it was. They reached Davy at the same time and Micky realized he was tied to the post and blood was dripping down for a nasty cut on his head. And he was unconscious.

"Davy, wake up," Micky said trying to wake up Davy while Mike quickly untied him. Micky quickly looked around to make sure they were alone and no one was going to jump out and shoot Mike. Nothing around them moved or made a sound, so Micky went back to trying to wake Davy up. Davy groaned a little as Mike finished untying his hands.

"Davy, are you ok?" Mike asked.

"We should get back to the house and call Mukada," Micky said.

"No!" Davy exclaimed finally coming to. "Don't call Mukada. He has to stay out of this."

"What? Why?" Mike asked.

"Because he'll kill Peter if he hears anything," Davy answered rubbing his head. "He said he had a police scanner."

"Who?" Mike asked.

"Who else is left that wants to kill us?" Micky answered. "Ok, let's at least get you to the hospital."

"No," Davy answered turning to Mike and wincing in pain a little at the movement. "He wanted me to give you a message. He wants you to find him so he can kill you."

"Davy, you're hurt pretty bad," Micky countered.

"It's fine," Davy answered. "We have to help Peter. And the hospital will just call the cops."

"What about Marcy?" Micky asked.

"She's fine," Davy answered. "We dropped her off at school and got ambushed by him at a stop light after. He got in the car with a gun and forced us to drive here. Peter volunteered to be the hostage and have me be the message bearer."

"Ok, what was the message?" Mike asked.

"I don't remember," Davy mumbled. "He tied me up here and said something about the train station and something else and then he hit me and I blacked out."

"The train station?" Mike asked. "They're at the train station?"

"No," Davy answered slowly. "There was something about a clue we have to find there, but I'm really sorry, I just don't remember."

"That's ok, Davy," Mike said. "Why don't we just get you back to the house and take care of your head while you try and remember. We told Patty to call Mukada if we weren't back in an hour, so now we need to stop her from doing that."

"Shouldn't we just head to the train station?" Micky asked. "We could call her from there."

"He's not going to kill Peter for a while," Mike said helping Davy up. "He's going to wait until I show up."

"You aren't seriously thinking about going, are you?" Micky asked helping Mike with Davy.

"Of course I am," Mike answered as they started walking back to the house with Davy in between them. "How could I not?"

"It's a trap," Micky said. "He's going to kill you. Let me go instead."

"No," Mike said. "I'm going alone. You're too sick still to go traipsing after my father."

"You are not going alone," Micky answered. "I'm not debating with you on this. You shouldn't even be going at all."

"If he's leaving clues for me to come after him, I'm probably the only one who can figure them out," Mike argued.

"Ok, maybe that's fair, but that doesn't mean you're going alone," Micky answered. "I'm going with you whether you like it or not."

"Me too," Davy said.

"No way, mate," Micky said at the same time Mike said "no".

"You can barely walk," Mike said.

"Someone needs to look after Patty and Marcy," Micky said.

"But," Davy started to argue.

"No," Mike said firmly. "I can't talk Micky into staying home, but I'm not going to let you go with us. You can't walk, so you'd only just slow us down. And Micky's right, someone needs to make sure Patty and Marcy are ok."

"Mike's right," Micky said. "No arguing about this. I'll take care of Mike and make sure nothing happens to him."

"Everything will be ok," Mike said.

"If we don't contact you within an hour after we leave, then call Mukada," Micky said. Davy reluctantly nodded and they walked the rest of the way to the house in silence. Once they got inside, Patty jumped up from the chair she'd been sitting in when she saw how hurt Davy was.

"What happened!?" she exclaimed.

"I'm so sorry, Patty," Mike answered leading Davy to the kitchen table. "My dad took Peter so he could get to me. I promise we'll get him back though."

"It's not your fault, Mike," Patty answered. "What happened to Davy?"

"Vern tied him up so he could deliver a message to us," Micky answered. "Not sure why he tied him up and knocked him out though if he didn't want cops chasing after him."

"Because he's an idiot," Mike answered rushing to get a washcloth to clean Davy's head.

"He said something about needing to buy time," Davy answered as Micky started to get a closer look at the wound on Davy's head. "He told me if…if the cops found me, to lie to them…I don't remember what he said about the train station. Only that it didn't make sense."

"That's ok, Davy," Mike said coming back to the table.

"No, it's not," Davy said angrily. "How are you going to save Peter if I can't even remember the stupid clue?!"

"Davy, relax," Mike said trying to calm Davy down and wipe the blood from his head.

"The injury actually doesn't look that bad," Micky said. "Just cut the head open a little. There's a little swelling, but I don't think it's that bad. I think we'll be safe not going to the hospital."

"Why aren't you going to the hospital?" Patty asked.

"Because then the cops would get involved and if they are called, my dad is going to hear it and kill Peter," Mike answered.

"I'm fine," Davy assured her. "I just wish I could remember what he said."

"Why don't you start by going over exactly what happened," Mike offered. "What's the last thing you remember clearly?" Micky moved to grab a bag of frozen peas from the icebox for Davy to place against his head to try and bring down some of the swelling.

"I remember him tying me to the post," Davy said taking the bag of peas from Micky and putting it on his head. "I remember him explaining to me that he had to buy time in case the cops were called for him to get away. He said that if someone called the cops when they found me to lie to them about what happened."

"Then what?" Mike prodded.

"Um…" Davy started. "I threatened him. I told him if he hurt Peter, you'd kill him. He said as long as we did what he said he wouldn't hurt Peter."

"What about the train station?" Micky asked.

"He said that's where the first clue was," Davy said.

"Where in the train station?" Mike asked.

"Something about a room," Davy said.

"A bathroom?" Mike suggested. "A storage room?"

"No," Davy said slowly and thinking very hard. "That's what didn't make sense. It was a room with a number. Like a hotel room or something."

"There's nothing like that at train stations," Mike said.

"No, but there are lockers with numbers," Micky offered.

"He specifically said room," Davy answered.

"Ok, what was the number?" Mike pushed.

"I don't…" Davy started. Then he got excited and jumped up from the table dropping the bag of peas from his head. "Room 212! He said room 212!"

"That doesn't make any sense," Mike said.

"Does the number 212 even mean anything to you?" Micky offered.

"No," Mike answered sighing.

"Ok," Micky said. "He obviously thinks it does mean something to you. Why don't we head to the train station and you can think on the way. We can take the dune buggy there."

"Right," Mike said. "Davy, you sure you're going to be ok?"

"I'll be fine," Davy said. "I just wish I could go with you."

"I know, but you need to rest and ice your head," Mike answered.

"If we're not back in time, go get Marcy from the school," Micky said. "Don't tell her what's going on. Make something up. I don't want to worry her any more than she already is. She finally stopped having nightmares every night."

"Don't worry," Davy said. "I'll take care of her. Just be careful and bring Peter back."

* * *

Peter gripped the wheel with both hands tightly as Vern Nesmith told him where to drive to. He didn't really say much else along the way, but neither did Peter. He wasn't exactly sure where they were going or what they were doing, but Peter tried hard to focus on doing what Vern told him to do. It was hard, because his mind kept drifting back to Davy and the others. Would Davy be ok? If he was able to pass on the message, would Mike come rescue him? Of course he would, but Peter feared that he'd get killed in the process, and Peter would never be able to forgive himself for that. He almost wanted to just sacrifice himself by trying to escape which would hopefully cause Vern to give up and run, but he could tell Vern wouldn't give up that easily. He had a bad feeling that Vern wouldn't care how many people he took out with him, just as long as he was able to kill Mike.

They stopped a few times at several places including the train station and Vern would walk closely behind Peter with the gun in his pocket pointed at Peter's back. He didn't know what Vern was doing, but they were driving very far out of town and after each stop he would write on a slip of paper in the car after consulting a map. Finally they reached the final stop and Vern pushed Peter inside the building. He directed him to sit down in a chair in the middle of the room and proceeded to tie him to it. It wasn't so tight that it hurt Peter, but it wasn't loose enough for him to try and escape. He knew if he tried to escape anyway, he'd just get shot and then he wouldn't be able to do any good when Mike did show up to rescue him. When Vern walked away, Peter tried to at least loosen the ropes enough so that when Mike did come, Peter could slip out and do whatever he could to help.

"Why are you so intent on killing Mike?" Peter asked when Vern returned with two bottles of water. "I mean, I know you're mad at him for testifying against you, but wouldn't it have been smarter to just run to another country and forget all about him? You wouldn't have to hide like this and you wouldn't be facing such a long prison sentence for killing two cops."

"You like to talk, don't you," Vern answered drinking out of one of the waters.

"What else am I supposed to do to pass the time?" Peter asked.

"It really none of your business," Vern sneered. "But if you must know, I don't like loose ends."

"Is that why you killed your wife?" Peter asked.

"That was an accident," Vern spat.

"An accident?" Peter echoed. "How do you accidentally bring a gun to your wife's apartment where she's cowering in fear from you and then shoot her? "

"Mind your own business," Vern snapped.

"Just curious," Peter said.

"Drink," Vern said thrusting the second bottle of water at Peter. Peter opened his mouth and Vern poured some water in a little too quickly. Peter almost choked, but he was glad for the water. It was a hot day and they'd been driving around for a few hours. "I don't like it when people cross me. Especially my own family. She was mine and she never should have left me."

"Well maybe you shouldn't have beaten them," Peter mumbled without thinking. Vern slapped Peter roughly across the face. Peter tasted a little blood in his mouth and realized his lip had been split open a little.

"Watch your mouth, boy," Vern snapped. Peter made sure to keep his mouth shut. He needed to be in good physical condition to help Mike when he got there and it was a really bad idea to poke an already angry bear with a stick.


	41. Locker 212

Author's Note: I have a friend I met on here who's going through some medical stuff right now. She needs some prayers. Even though I am not religious, I still think saying prayers for someone helps send positive vibes and energy their way. Thanks everyone. I know she'll appreciate it.

Chapter 41: Locker 212

"Are you sure that you have no idea what 212 means?" Micky asked Mike again as the two of them drove toward the train station.

"I really don't," Mike answered.

"Is it an address?" Micky offered. "Maybe one of the apartments you and your mom ran to?"

"No," Mike answered sighing. "None of the places we lived at had that for an address."

"It's not your dad's birthday?" Micky prompted. "February 12th?"

"No," Mike answered shaking his head. "Or my mom's or mine or anyone else's."

"What about-" Micky started but suddenly Mike cut him off.

"Their anniversary!" Mike exclaimed. "My parents got married on February 12th!"

"Ok, so that's what 212 means," Micky said. "There will probably be a lock on it with a combination. We'll have to figure out what the combination is."

"I can't think of what it could be," Mike answered.

"Well, hopefully by the time we get there, we can figure it out," Micky said. They drove the rest of the way in silence, both thinking about the possible combinations for the locker. Micky realized it was likely related to Mike's parents wedding, but he wasn't sure. It could have been his father's birthday or his mother's. When they finally reached the train station, the two of them made their way quickly toward the lockers and found locker 212 without problem. As Micky had suspected, there was a combination lock on it, but there was nothing else that would help them try and figure out the combination.

"I guess I can just try his birthday," Mike said as he knelt down to try the combination. It didn't work.

"Your mom's?" Micky suggested. That didn't work either. "Do you know the address of where they got married?"

"It was done in secrecy," Mike said. "My grandparents hated him."

"Can't say I blame them," Micky said. "Try your birthday."

"Nope," Mike said once he'd tried it.

"Your brother's?"

"No."

"What else could it be?"

"Something associated with the wedding, probably."

"Can't think of anything else. Unless…"

"Unless what?" Mike asked standing up.

"Well, a combination has three parts, so we've been thinking a date, right?" Micky said. "A month, a day and a year. But the locker number is just the month and the day. February 12th. 212. What if the combination is the year they married? Some form of the year broken into three parts?"

"That could be it," Mike agreed. He tried two different combinations of the year before he got it; the lock opened with a snap and Mike ripped open the locker. Inside was just an old worn out picture.

"What is it?" Micky asked.

"It's a picture of me as a kid," Mike answered. "It was the Christmas just before we left."

"Do you remember that?" Micky asked.

"Barely," Mike answered. "I think my dad got me a model of something…it was a model car I think."

"So does that mean we're looking for a car?" Micky said groaning. "That is so beyond a needle in a haystack. Do you even remember what kind of car it was?"

"All I remember is that it was red," Mike answered.

"Well, at least that narrows it down a little," Micky sighed looking at the picture again.

"Yeah, but there could be a hundred of those in this city alone," Mike sighed as he tilted the picture a little causing Micky to see something on the back. He pulled the picture out of Mike's hands and flipped it over.

"There's something written on it," Micky answered before Mike could even ask why he'd done that. "It says 'Time sure does fly'. What the heck does that mean? Is that a clue or is he being sentimental?"

"I doubt he's being very sentimental," Mike answered. "So it's a clue. Something to do with time? Maybe a clock store?"

"No," Micky said. "Look, the only word that appears to be written more carefully than the others is the word 'fly'. So maybe it has something to do with flying. The airport?"

"Which airport?" Mike asked. "There are none actually in Malibu, but a lot in nearby cities. Including military bases."

"I don't know," Micky answered a little glumly. How were they going to figure this out? Just then, a commuter ran past them, obviously late for something as he was going fast enough to leave a breeze in his wake. The breeze blew something else out of the locker and Mike grabbed it before it hit the ground.

"A clover," Mike said looking at it. "Think that was in there by natural causes?"

"How?" Micky asked. "We're indoors."

"Then what does the clover mean?" Mike asked.

"Santa Monica Airport used to be called Clover Field!" Micky exclaimed as it hit him.

"Ok, then I guess we're going to Santa Monica," Mike said shutting the locker door as the two of them took off again.

"Wait," Micky said as they ran out to the car. "It's going to take at least 45 minutes to get out there. I should call Davy and Patty to let them know where we're going. Just in case."

"Fine," Mike said. "I'll pull the car around." Micky ran to the nearest pay phone and shoved a quarter in before dialing his home number. The whole time he kept an eye on Mike to make sure that no one took advantage of him being alone. Mike made it to the car just as Davy answered the phone and while Micky told Davy of their find and where they were going, Mike drove the car to the payphone Micky was using.

"I don't know if I like you guys leaving town," Davy said.

"What choice do we have?" Micky said.

"I know, I know," Davy said. "You have to save Peter. Just be careful and call me when you get there."

"We will," Micky said before hanging up the phone and jumping into the car next to Mike.

* * *

Davy hung up the phone and tried to fight the panic rising inside him. They were leaving town. Who knew how far away Vern had taken Peter. It made sense; he needed to be as far away from Mukada and the other agents hunting him down as possible. And this was probably why Vern had made this twisted scavenger hunt. Not only did it keep the cops off his tail, but it bought Vern the time to travel to where he thought he'd be safe from outsiders reporting him to the cops. But his mug shot was all over every newspaper and plastered over every channel in California. Did that mean he'd left California? If he had, that meant really bad news for Mike and Micky. They wouldn't have any allies they could rely on and they'd be too far away for Davy or Mukada to help him.

"What's going on?" Patty said from the kitchen table. Davy thought about not telling her, but knew she'd heard most of the conversation and lying to her would only upset her more than not telling her.

"They have to go to Santa Monica airport," Davy answered cautiously. "But they promised they'd call me when they got there."

"They're leaving town?" Patty asked. "That's not a good idea. Maybe we should tell Mukada now."

"We can't," Davy said. "If Mike's dad even hears a hint of police presence, he'll kill Peter. I know you're worried, and so am I, but I have no doubt that they can handle this. They'll be ok. I can feel it."

"Maybe we should go there with them," Patty said and stood up a little. When she did, she got a slight pained look on her face and clutched her stomach.

"No," Davy answered rushing over to try and get her to sit back down. "They'll be fine. You need to sit back down and relax."

"I'm fine," Patty breathed.

"Please just sit down," Davy pled. "Everything is going to be fine. Please just relax."

"I'm just so scared," Patty said starting to cry a little. "I'm scared for Peter. I don't want anything to happen to him."

"I know," Davy said. "I'm scared, too. But I know that Mike and Micky aren't going to let anything happen to Peter. They'll do everything they can to save him."

"What if it isn't good enough?" Patty asked.

"Patty, don't worry about that," Davy said. "Just relax. It'll be ok. I promise. I know in my heart that nothing is going to happen to them. Mike and Micky will save Peter. They'll call us when the get to Santa Monica and they'll find the next clue and they'll get to Peter. They'll save him. They'll figure something out."

"How do you know that?" Patty asked.

"Because they always do," Davy answered. "We always get into some sort of trouble for some reason. And Mike and Micky have always figured a way out of it. We've stopped gangsters and spies; we've beaten evil curses; we've even won Peter's soul back from the Devil. All because of them. They've saved me on numerous occasions. They'll save Peter. They are not going to let anything happen to him. They're better and stronger than Vern. I can feel it in my heart. They're going to get out of this. And when they do, Peter's going to come home and you're going to have to be relaxed. For your baby."

"I just feel so many emotions right now," Patty sobbed.

"I know you do, but you have to remember that you have to stay relaxed," Davy said thinking of how he could help her relax. "Your hormones are a little off right now and that's why you're a little emotional. Try not to think about Peter right now. Why don't you try taking a nap?"

"I can't sleep until I know he's safe," Patty answered.

"Ok, what about TV?" Davy offered. "Should we try watching something?"

"I don't think that will work," Patty said.

"We should stay busy doing something," Davy said.

"Like what?" Patty asked.

"Why don't we discuss some of the things you need for your baby?" Davy suggested. "You need to do something to try and not think about this and de-stress."

"I know," Patty said wiping the tears from her eyes. "You're right. I picked up a few books from the library we could go through and start making lists of things I need."

"I'll go get them," Davy answered getting up and dashing to her room, brushing off the wave of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. He was trying as hard as he could to keep her mind off what was happening. She was finally getting better for the baby, and this wasn't going to help. He'd never be able to forgive himself if he let her freak out causing something to happen to the baby. He had believed what he said, but hoped the words were more encouraging for her than for him. He had a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was not going to end well.


	42. Abandoned Cars

Author's Note: Let me know what you think.

Chapter 42: Abandoned Cars

Mike and Micky pulled into the Santa Monica airport an hour later. They had hit a lot of traffic on the way and Mike had grown frustrated but tried to force himself to breathe steadily to keep his anger down. The last thing they needed was to draw unwanted attention to themselves for an incident of road rage. He knew the traffic problems were out of his control and everyone else's around them. There was construction on the side of the road that had shut down some of the lanes. But when Mike finally saw the outline of the airstrips, he breathed a small sigh of relief. They still hadn't saved Peter, but at least they were one step closer. They drove around a little through the numerous parking lots looking for the car they were supposed to find. There were several red cars, but it wasn't until they'd been driving for another hour that they found a car that Mike recognized. Mike pulled the car in behind it and both of them jumped out of the car and approached the other car.

"You think this is it?" Micky asked.

"Maybe," Mike said trying the driver's door. Sure enough, it was unlocked. "I don't remember exactly the type of car I got from my dad, but this looks familiar."

"Ok, I'll keep watch for cops or security," Micky said. "We don't know if this car belongs to somebody or not, so search it quickly."

"Got it," Mike said as he quickly started rummaging around in the car. He looked in all the seats, underneath and in between but found nothing. He checked the center console and found nothing. He finally checked the glove box and a lot of papers fell out. Mike sifted through each of them looking for something that might be a clue. He finally found a paper that had a bunch of numbers on it.

"What did you find?" Micky asked seeing Mike stop and stare at the paper.

"I don't know," Mike answered. "It's just a bunch of numbers."

"Let me see," Micky asked. Mike handed Micky the paper who looked at it equally confused. "Is there anything else in there?"

"No, just a bunch of old papers," Mike said. "They don't mean anything. They belong to the owner. I'm going to put them back."

"Who's the owner?" Micky asked.

"Some guy named Trevor Bell," Mike said looking at the insurance papers.

"I think I read something in the paper this morning about him," Micky said frowning a little. "He's missing or something."

"You don't think…" Mike said fearing that his father had killed another person to get to him.

"No," Micky said. "From what I read, they suspect the wife's lover. Vern probably just took advantage of the situation, but we should probably report we found his car so the cops can investigate."

"His wife's lover?" Mike repeated. "Well, hopefully since his car is parked in an airport, he just got mad at his wife and took off to Idaho or something."

"Hopefully," Micky agreed. Mike desperately wanted what he'd said to be true. He desperately wanted his father to not have killed another person.

"Well, let's hope this is the clue," Micky said. "I saw a diner up the road and even though I'm too stressed to eat, we should get some food. I doubt we'll be able to crack this code sitting here staring at it, anyway. We need to call Davy, too. I told him we'd call him an hour ago. He's probably really worried."

"Right," Mike said as the two of them walked back to the car. They pulled into the diner about 5 minutes later and were greeted by a smiling waitress.

"Hi!" she said. "Welcome! You boys are new around here."

"We're just visiting," Micky answered.

"I'm Kayleigh," she said. "Why don't you come sit down and I'll get you some drinks to start with."

"Thanks," Mike said. "Is there a phone we could use?"

"Sure," Kayleigh answered. "Right around the corner by the bathrooms."

"Thanks," Mike said. "Order for me, Micky?"

"Sure," Micky answered. Mike walked over to the payphone pointed out by Kayleigh and popped in a quarter before dialing the pad. Davy answered on the first ring.

"Hello!?" Davy said nervously into the phone. Mike could tell Davy really had been worried sick.

"Hey, Davy, it's me," Mike said.

"Mike!" Davy exclaimed. "I was so worried about you! Are you ok?! Where's Micky? Is he ok?!"

"Davy, calm down," Mike said. "We're both fine. We got held up in traffic on the way here and wanted to get to the airport as soon as we arrived so as not to waste any more time. We found the clue in the car and we're at a diner working it out. I'm sorry we didn't call earlier, but we wanted to find that car as fast as we could."

"I'm just glad you guys are ok," Davy said. "I was worried sick. Patty's worried, too. I've been trying to get her to relax and not stress, but it's been hard."

"Keep her mind off things," Mike said. "Marcy gets out of school in a few hours, so just keep her busy until then."

"Yeah, I've been trying, she keeps crying," Davy answered. "She's kind of hormonal."

"That's to be expected," Mike said. "She's pregnant. Pregnant women are very emotional. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," Davy answered.

"Grab the paper from this morning and look for an article about a man named Trevor Bell," Mike said.

"Hang on," Davy said. Mike could hear the phone being set aside and silence for a few moments before Davy came back. "Ok, found it. What do you need to know?"

"I just need to know what it says," Mike answered.

"It says he disappeared last week," Davy said. "The police are looking for the guy's wife and the man she was having an affair with. They think they left the state because they found a receipt for a couple of plane tickets in the wife's lover's house and it looks like they both packed for a trip. Toothbrushes, medicines, clothing are all missing from the houses but only for the wife and the lover. Nothing else important. Just that the police want everyone to be on the lookout for the couple. What does this have to do with anything?"

"We found the guy's car," Mike answered. "The clue was in his car and Micky remembered reading the article about it in this morning's paper."

"You found his car?" Davy asked.

"Yeah, that's where the clue was," Mike answered. "It was in the glove box. I just hope my dad had nothing to do with this guy's disappearance."

"It doesn't sound like it," Davy said. "The police think it's a lover's quarrel. What was the clue?"

"No idea," Mike said. "It's just a bunch of numbers. Micky and I are going to try and figure it out at the diner."

"Ok," Davy said. "Good luck. Call me later?"

"Of course," Mike answered before he hung up the phone. He pulled another quarter out of his pocket and dialed the number for the Malibu Police. A woman answered and asked how she could help. "Yes, I wanted to report that I found the car of Trevor Bell at the Santa Monica airport."

"What is your name?" the woman asked. "And how do you know it was Mr. Bell's car?"

"I'd like to remain anonymous," Mike answered. He was pretty sure that admitting he'd gone rifling through someone else's car would get him into a lot of trouble, but he couldn't ignore the fact he knew where the man's car was if it might mean helping him. Especially if his father had anything to do with his disappearance. "And I just know it's his car. Please just send an officer to check it out. It's in the south parking lot." Mike quickly hung up the phone before the woman could ask any more questions. When he made his way over to the table where Micky was sitting and saw two glasses of soda on the table. Micky had a pen in one hand and a pad of paper in front of him next to the paper from the car.

"How was Davy?" Micky asked when Mike sat down.

"Worried sick," Mike answered. "I told him we're both fine."

"Good," Micky said. "What did the cops say?"

"They didn't," Mike said. "I made the call anonymously and hung up before she could ask a lot of questions. Figured we might get into trouble if we say we rifled through the car and stumbled upon his insurance papers."

"Good point," Micky said. "I think this is some kind of code. But I'm not sure what."

"What kind of code?" Mike asked. "Like the letters translate into numbers?"

"Exactly," Micky said. "Just gotta figure out how. You said your dad wasn't that smart, so it's probably going to be something simple. Take a look at the numbers. They're spaced out in groups that appear to coincide with letters." Micky slid the paper across the table for Mike to see it again. He studied it further this time and realized there was a pattern to it.

20 8 5 25 1 12 12 3 15 13 5 2 21 20 14 15 2 15 4 25 19 20 1 25 19

1 14 4 2 20 19 1 1 18 2 5 20 20 5 18 20 8 1 14 2 25 19

2 21 20 4 18 14 15 20 4 9 19 20 21 18 2

15 18 25 15 21 12 12 5 14 14 21 16 15 14 2 21 18 2

1 19 20 5 18 5 4 20 15 19 23 5 5 20 19 1 12 12 9 5 13 1 5 19

"It looks like the numbers only go up to 25," Mike said.

"Right," Micky agreed. "And there are 26 letters in the alphabet and Z is a letter not used very often, so it probably just correlates to the order of the alphabet, but there's no letter Z. For instance: A is 1, B is 2 and so on."

"I get it," Mike said. "So we just have to put the letters on a number line and translate."

"Right," Micky said as he jotted the alphabet down and assigned numbers in chronological order. As he wrote it out, Kayleigh came by with their food: two cheeseburgers.

"Here you boys go," she said with a smile. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Sure thing," Mike said. "Thanks."

"Ok," Micky said taking a large bite out of his cheeseburger. "Read me the numbers." Mike read the numbers one at a time as Micky looked at where they coincided on the alphabetic number line. After they'd finished with the numbers, they had just about finished eating too. "Ok, so it's a bunch of letters. We just need to find out where the spaces go to make the words."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Mike said as he took the paper from Micky. He looked over the letters and put a line between the letters that formed words that made sense. When he finished, he read them out loud.

They all come, but nobody stays  
And the nights are far better than days  
But do not disturb  
Or you'll end up on the curb  
Registered to sweet Sallie Mae's.

"What does that mean?" Mike asked.

"It's a riddle," Micky said taking the paper back. "But I have no idea what any of it means. Do you know anyone by the name of Sallie Mae?"

"No," Mike answered. "Though it does sound very Texas."

"Sallie Mae," Micky repeated. "I'm not really sure."

"Sallie Mae?" Kayleigh asked as she approached their table. "If you guys are looking for a hotel, I'd suggest you stay clear away from that one. There are much safer and cleaner ones than that."

"Sallie Mae is a hotel?" Mike asked her.

"Yeah," Kayleigh answered. "About a hundred years ago this woman named Sallie Mae started an underground brothel. Billed it as a hotel. New owners claim it's just a hotel now, but they hardly ever book anyone in there for more than a few hours at a time. My cousin worked there for a while."

"Can you tell us where it is?" Mike asked. "We think a friend of ours is there and he may need help." Kayleigh pondered this over for a moment before deciding they were telling the truth. She took out her notebook she took orders on and wrote something down.

"Here's the directions," Kayleigh said. "Take it easy up there. All kinds of shady characters hang out up there."

"Thank you," Mike answered before she smiled at them again, took their plates and walked away.

"That makes a lot of sense," Micky said. "Think about the riddle: "They all come but nobody stays." A hotel that caters to that kind of clientele. Makes perfect sense."

"Why am I not surprised my dad knows about this place?" Mike sighed. "I'm not sure if I want Peter to be there or not."

"I know how you feel," Micky said. "But let's go. Sooner we get there, the sooner we find out."

* * *

Peter was tired of sitting still and not doing anything. He realized he was a prisoner, but he was really bored. Vern was walking around the place doing various things that Peter couldn't figure out. He thought about asking Vern to at least turn on the TV for him that was across the room, but figured it would be better to keep his mouth shut. He was sitting around for two hours replaying an old movie in his head for entertainment when Vern came back over to where Peter was sitting. He kneeled in the corner and started working on something over there. Peter's view was obscured and he couldn't see what Vern was working on, but he knew it probably wasn't good.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked unable to really keep his mouth shut anymore.

"None of your business," Vern snapped. "Leave me alone. This is a very delicate operation and if you distract me or bug me, you won't live to regret it."

"What?" Peter asked nervously.

"I said shut up," Vern snapped. Peter kept his mouth shut and tried to crane his neck to see what he was doing. He leaned over in the chair as far as he could with the restraints holding him, but still couldn't see. So he went back to being bored and replaying the movie in his head. He didn't even realize he'd started tapping his foot until Vern snapped. "I told you to knock it off!"

"I'm sorry," Peter answered honestly. "I'm just really bored. Maybe I could watch a little TV?"

"No," Vern said standing up. Behind him, Peter could finally see what it was Vern had been working on. It looked like a bunch of wires attacked to a piece of silly putty. "I told you I need quiet and no distractions. You want to know what I'm doing? I'm rigging the place with bombs."

"Bombs?!" Peter squeaked in fear.

"Yes," Vern answered. "I'm going to that little traitor one way or another and I really don't care how. This here is my fail safe. I'd much rather splash his brains all over the wall, but should that not pan out, then I can certainly blow his butt into a million, itty bitty, burning pieces. And if you keep distracting me, I might mess up and blow us both up early."

"But if you blow the place up when Mike gets here won't you die, too?" Peter said now terrified and trying to reason with this insane man.

"No," Vern answered.

"But-" Peter argued trying to figure out how this man expected to survive an explosion.

"If you don't shut your trap, I will put a bullet in your head right now!" Vern snapped pulling his gun out and pointing it at Peter only about an inch or two away from him.

"Ok," Peter squeaked. But he didn't stop watching this man's every move now. If he had a way of escaping an explosion, Peter had to figure out what it was. Maybe Peter could use it make sure that Mike survived, too. Or instead.


	43. The Inn

Author's Note: I'd like to give a big thanks to PlushChrome for helping me with all the clues. I couldn't have done it without her. Have this invisible cyber pineapple as a token of my appreciation. :D

There are some things in this chapter that make it rated T. But nothing too bad.

Chapter 43: The Inn

After another 2 hours, the boys made it to the hotel. The outside sure did make it look like the type of motel it was reputed to be. It looked like it was falling apart and in desperate need of a paint job. Micky almost didn't want to go in, but he knew he had to if it meant finding Peter. So both Micky and Mike got out of the car and made their way to the office. When they reached the door, Micky pulled his sleeve down and opened it without actually touching the handle with his bare hands. Mike looked at him and hid a slight chuckle, but Micky could still see it.

"What?" Micky asked. "You expect me to touch anything in this place?! Not with all the soap in the world."

"No arguments here," Mike said walking in with Micky behind him. He walked up to the counter to get the attention of the man behind the counter. The counter was closed off with Plexiglas as though trying to protect the attendant from any attack. But there was a small hole under the glass that Micky supposed was used to slide the keys and cash under. The man behind the counter was currently fast asleep with his feet up on the desk. Mike knocked on the glass window to try and wake the attendant up, but he didn't respond. Mike knocked even louder, but still nothing.

"Oh for goodness sake," Micky sighed and banged as loudly as he could with his fist on the window. The attendant behind the counter snorted and jumped awake, but Micky didn't care that he'd awoken this man so rudely. They really didn't have time to deal with this.

"What!?" the attendant exclaimed nearly falling out of the chair.

"Hi," Micky said. "We need some information."

"What do you want?" the attendant asked.

"Great customer service skills," Mike mumbled.

"We need to know what room Nesmith checked in to," Micky asked.

"I don't know anyone by that name," the attendant.

"Can you check your files?" Mike asked getting impatient. "I know he was here."

"Why should I?" the attendant asked annoyed. "You woke me up."

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Micky asked. "You shouldn't be sleeping anyway."

"Look, buddy, we kind of have a strict client confidentiality thing," the attendant asked.

"I doubt that so how about we don't tell your boss we found you sleeping on the job?" Mike threatened. "I'm pretty sure that your lazy butt would get fired in an instant."

"My word against yours," the attendant snorted.

"What if we took a picture before we woke you?" Micky lied.

"I don't believe you," the attendant said sounding a little more worried now.

"Check your files for Nesmith or you'll find out," Micky demanded sounding serious. He really hoped that this guy didn't call his bluff.

"Alright, alright," the attendant sighed and checked a book sitting in front of him. "There's nobody here by that name."

"Who's in room 212?" Mike asked.

"Good thinking," Micky mumbled as the attendant checked the book again.

"No one," he answered. "But it was reserved for someone named Blessing. Paid in advance."

"Blessing?" Micky asked confused.

"That's me," Mike said. "Can I have the key?"

"Yeah right," the attendant scoffed.

"Give me the key now," Mike said so firmly that even Micky was a little scared.

"Fine!" the attendant said cowering a little and got up to get the key from the wall before sliding it under the glass. Mike took the key from him and walked away. Micky jogged a little to keep up with him.

"What was that?" Micky asked. "Who's Blessing?"

"Just what I said," Mike answered gruffly. "Me. Mom changed our names when we moved around to hide from dad. I didn't know he ever knew what we changed it to while hiding."

"I'm sorry, Mike," Micky said not knowing what else to say. It was clear that finding out this information made Mike very upset and it wasn't just because he'd taken a very uncharacteristically threatening tone with the attendant.

"I'll be fine," Mike said taking a deep breath and stopping. "It's just bringing up so many bad memories I didn't want to deal with anymore."

"Trust me, I understand," Micky said. "I'm here, ok. Just remember that."

"Thanks, Mick," Mike said smiling at him. "Let's go find Peter." Micky nodded and they finished walking to room 212. When they got there, Mike leaned his ear against the door.

"Anything?" Micky whispered. Mike shook his head and put the key in the door. When they walked inside, they noticed that it appeared as though the place hadn't been cleaned in weeks.

"Gross," Mike said looking around.

"How are we supposed to find anything in this mess?" Micky asked.

"I really wish I had gloves," Mike added. They started to carefully look around, but they weren't even sure what they were looking for. Micky opened a drawer with his shirt sleeve and quickly closed it when he saw several unmentionables still inside.

"Find anything yet?" Micky asked Mike who was currently looking in the bathroom. He really wanted to get out of here quickly.

"Only things that make me wish I were wearing a hazmat suit," Mike answered emerging from the bathroom. "Don't go in there. I nearly stepped on a needle."

"That's terrific," Micky groaned. "I don't know where else to look. And I really don't want to touch anything in here to start digging around."

"Maybe under the bed?" Mike said. "I don't really remember much from my time with Dad, but I remember hiding under the bed a lot. And I remember he didn't like that."

"Couldn't hurt," Micky shrugged. "Take that back…in this place, it might."

"I'll look," Mike said walking over to the bed and kneeling down. "There's a box under here."

"A box?" Micky echoed.

"Yeah and it doesn't look nearly as dust-ridden as anything else in this room," Mike said reaching for the box. "Which means it's the only new thing in here."

"What's in it?" Micky asked as Mike set the box on the table next to Micky. Mike was right; the box was clean and still in good shape. It was a normal brown shoebox that didn't look special or out of place at all.

"Dunno," Mike answered carefully lifting the lid. Mike and Micky peered into the box and they saw a bunch of pictures. Mike reached in and pulled out a handful as did Micky. The first one in his hand was a picture of Peter enjoying an ice cream cone. The next one was Davy sitting on the beach watching the waves roll in. The third was of himself eating a cheeseburger at a local restaurant. And there was even one of Mike admiring a guitar at the local music shop.

"These are all of us!" Micky exclaimed. "These were taken at least a couple of months ago! How in the world…?"

"He must have paid someone to follow us," Mike said showing Micky that his pictures were all of them too. "Like a PI or something. Try and figure us out before striking."

"Then why was he working with Peter's parents?" Micky asked.

"Well, it's not like we keep to a schedule or anything," Mike sighed. "He must have realized that and just seized the opportunity with everything that was going on with Patty. He already knew them and everything. That must be how it was so easy for them to find us at the warehouse. We were already being followed and didn't even know it."

"Why didn't they just come to the house then?" Micky asked.

"Too risky maybe?" Mike answered with a shrug. "I have no idea. It's creepy thinking we were being watched and never knew it."

"So what's the clue?" Micky asked. "Or does he just want to freak us out?"

"Both," Mike said dropping all but one picture back in the box. Micky looked at the picture in Mike's hand; it was the only one not of them and it was old. It was a picture of a cow in front of a farmhouse. And it was a very poorly taken picture at that. You could barely even make out the farmhouse in the back with how blurry it was.

"Why does he have a picture of a cow?" Micky asked.

"This has got to be the clue," Mike said. "Maybe this farmhouse is where we have to go next."

"And how do we figure out where the farmhouse is?"

"Look," Mike said pointing at a blurry sign behind the cow. "I can't tell what it says." Mike squinted his eyes and pulled the picture close to his face.

"Looks like it says something, something farm," Micky said.

"Well obviously it's a farm," Mike said. "Daisy's Dairy Farm maybe?"

"Maybe," Micky said. "Wonder where that is."

"Should we go ask our friendly little hotel attendant?" Mike asked.

"Not sure he's gonna be too happy to see us again," Micky laughed.

"Well, we do have to return the room key," Mike said grabbing the box.

"Point taken," Micky said following Mike out of the room. When they walked back into the office the attendant was leaning back in his chair with his feet on his desk again; it looked like he was drifting off to sleep again.

"Hey, sleepy!" Mike said pounding on the glass. The man jerked awake again and rolled his eyes when he saw them.

"You two?" he snapped. "What do you want now!?"

"Well, we have to return the key, don't we?" Mike said.

"Yeah," the attendant said with a yawn.

"Can you tell us where this place is first?" Mike asked showing him the picture.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Sign says Daisy's Dairy Farm," Mike answered. "Ever heard of it?"

"Yeah," the attendant answered. "It's in the middle of nowhere. About another hour up the road. It's abandoned though. Most of the family died during the depression. No heir has ever gone out there. Not even to claim their stuff. Why?"

"Just need to find someone," Mike answered. "How do we get there?"

"Take the main road up about 50 miles or so," the attendant said. "A whole bunch of abandoned farms are up there. Government is trying to take over the land and build but the remaining farmers don't want to be surrounded by anything other than farms. It'll kill the little amount of crops they have."

"Is it right off the main road?" Micky asked.

"No," the attendant answered. "Get off the main road at Mockingbird and take that another 10 miles to Roadrunner. It's another couple miles up from there."

"Thank you," Mike said sliding the key under the glass.

"Whatever, weirdos," the guys muttered. Micky wanted to turn back and say something, but Mike pushed him toward the door.

"We don't have time for that," Mike said.

"Fine, you're right," Micky said. "Shouldn't we call Davy?"

"I'm going to find a much more sanitary phone for that," Mike said.

"Good point," Micky laughed.


	44. Bombing

Author's Note: Ok, so I'm getting this one wrapped (don't worry, got a few more chapters) and I already have an idea for 2 more stories: one that I'm going to be doing with my good friend Plushchrome who has helped me so much with this story and another one that the plot for suddenly popped into my head the other day. So once this is over, I'll be working on 3 stories at a time (since I don't forsee Hath No Fury ending soon)…not sure how well that's going to go.

Chapter 44: Bombs

It took longer than expected to get to the dairy farm in the dune buggy, but Micky had managed to find a decent phone to call Davy with before they left, so Davy knew where they were headed in case they got into trouble. Davy had agreed that he and Patty would go pick Marcy up from school once school let out and come up with something to tell her as to where Micky, Mike and Peter were. Micky really didn't want her to become anymore upset than she already was. He only wished he could also keep the fact that Peter's life was in danger yet again from Patty. Davy was still having a hard time keeping her relaxed. He had finally resorted to trying to massage her shoulders just before Micky had called. It had apparently worked for a little while.

Now they were pulling up alongside the dairy farm. They had agreed that they would park a ways away and hide the buggy so they could sneak up on Mike's dad. Since this place had been abandoned for so long, the grass, weeds and other shrubs had grown so tall and out of control that they could easily walk through it without being seen. So they parked the buggy on the side of the street and made their way through the tall grass. They could see the house off in the distance off in the field and it looked in desperate need of repair. When they made it to the farmhouse, they realized that all the windows were boarded up but they were able carefully peer through a crack in the boards on one of the windows. Micky saw Peter tied to a chair in the middle of the room with a gag in his mouth. But no one else.

"There's Peter," Micky whispered. "But where's your dad?"

"No idea," Mike said quietly. "Not sure I want to wait around to find out. Wait here. I'm gonna go in."

"That's not a good idea," Micky answered grabbing his sleeve to keep Mike from leaving. "What if Vern is hiding in there waiting for you?"

"All the more reason for you to wait here," Mike answered. "You can back me up if I need it."

"How?" Micky asked.

"You're pretty good at thinking on the fly," Mike said smiling at him. "Just do that."

"But-" Micky started. But it was useless; Mike had already started jogging toward the front door. Micky gave up trying to convince Mike and focused on trying to help him. He watched through the window as Mike walked in the house and rushed to Peter. Peter immediately started trying to say something and he suddenly looked very anxious as if he were desperately trying to tell Mike something. Micky saw a shadow moving on the floor and realized that the closet door behind Mike had opened. Vern had been hiding in the closet. Peter saw him and his eyes widened and screamed at Mike behind his gag. Mike turned around and put his hands in the air.

"Hello, Michael," Vern said. Micky couldn't see him, but he could tell where he was standing based on the shadows on the ground. If he went in the front door, he'd be seen instantly. But maybe there was another way in where he could sneak up behind Vern and take him by surprise. Looking up, he saw a broken out window that he could probably climb through. Luckily for him, the wood was coming apart along the side of the house making for perfect hand and footholds for him to climb. The whole time, he made sure to pay attention to the conversation so that he knew what was going on.

"Hello, Vern," Mike said scathingly.

"Don't disrespect me," Vern spat. "I am your father."

"No, you're not," Mike spat back. "You are only the man who helped create me. I do appreciate that, but it takes a man to be a father. You're not a man and you're certainly not a father."

"You're a disrespectful little twerp," Vern snapped.

"You have what you want," Mike said. "You have me, so let Peter go."

"No," Vern sneered as Micky now made his way into the bedroom upstairs. The voices were muffled now, and Micky made sure to tread carefully to make sure that he wasn't heard. "Not until you learn some respect."

"Respect isn't learned," Mike answered. "It's earned. And there's not a damn thing you can do to earn that from me. You lost any chance of that when you shot my mother in cold blood right in front of me."

"I don't know where you're getting this attitude from," Vern sneered. "Your mother never had a mouth like that. She did what she was told when she was told and kept her mouth shut."

"Until she left," Mike said. "Smartest thing she ever did."

"Stupidest if you ask me," Vern snapped. "It got her shot."

"It didn't _get_ her shot," Mike spat. Micky could hear the anger rising in his voice and even though he knew Mike was trying to drag this out so Micky could help him, he wished Mike would just back down. This was not going to end well. "_You_ shot her. You came into our home and you shot her. It's your fault she's dead. Not hers, so don't you dare put it on her."

"Where did you learn to speak to people like this?" Vern snapped. Micky carefully squeezed through the bedroom door that was hanging open and off its hinges.

"For your information, I usually don't," Mike said. Micky found a hoe leaning up against the wall in the hallway and carefully picked it up. It was dull and rusty, but it should still be enough to at least knock Vern out long enough to get Peter and get out of the house. "This is all for you. I learned to hate you all on my own. Did you honestly expect me to just forgive you for what you did? You shot my mother in cold blood."

"You are very ignorant," Vern sneered. "I didn't intend to kill her."

"I don't care if you intended to kill her or not!" Mike snapped. "I was there! I watched you kill her! You are nothing more than a cold-hearted, evil murderer!"

"Watch your mouth!" Vern yelled. Micky crept to the landing and peered at the scene down below to try and quickly assess the situation. Peter was in in the center of the room still tied to the chair and still gagged. Mike stood only a few inches away from him, but he didn't have his hands up anymore; they were clenched into fists at his side. Vern was standing in front of both of them holding a very large and very deadly looking gun. The stairs were old and worn out, but Micky thought he could still make it down the stairs if he tried, but he saw something else in the corner of the room that made his heart stop. There was a bomb in the corner of the room. Micky followed the wires coming out of it and realized the whole room was lined with bombs. But he didn't see an ignition source anywhere, so he focused on Vern. That's when he saw it; sticking out of Vern's back pocket was a switch. It looked like it was set to a timer, but the timer hadn't been set yet.

Micky quickly realized just how serious this situation was. If Vern realized Micky was trying to hurt him, he could blow the whole place up and there wasn't a single way they could escape. There was no way Micky could know just how long of a timer Vern had set, but figured it was at least long enough for Vern to escape. But how would Vern escape and ensure that Mike and Peter wouldn't? Vern had planned this whole thing out, so there had to be an escape that Vern knew about that Mike didn't. Micky had to find it as quickly as he could. The front door was shut and barricaded with furniture and Micky realized Vern must have done this while Micky was climbing through the window upstairs. Micky knew they wouldn't have enough time to free Peter and make it out the front door or the boarded up windows. He didn't need to know what the timer would say to know Vern would have set everything up to make that impossible.

As Micky quickly scanned the rest of the house to try and figure out how Vern planned on escaping, Vern lunged forward toward Mike and hit Mike across the face with the gun. Peter screamed behind his gag as Mike fell to the ground and gasped in pain. Micky fought all his instincts to react immediately; he had to focus on finding the way out because he had no idea when Vern was planning on pushing the trigger on his bomb that would start the timer. He knew that Mike was alive, and that's what mattered. He just had to work fast to make sure they all stayed that way.

"You really need to learn to respect me, boy!" Vern had snapped as Mike fell to the ground. "How dare you speak to me like that!? Not only am I your father, but I am your elder! You will treat me with respect!"

"You don't deserve it," Mike spat back pushing himself back up.

"Then I'll beat it into you, boy!" Vern said rearing his arm back to smack Mike again. This time Mike ducked and avoided being hit. He threw his whole weight into Vern and tackled him to the ground. Micky wanted to yell at Mike not to do that for fear of accidentally setting the trigger still in Vern's back pocket, but something caught his eye. As Mike and Vern crashed to the ground, the floors shuddered from the impact, except for one small square behind Peter. A trapdoor that surely would have protected Vern from the blast if he crawled down in it. That meant that would be their escape route too. Micky took advantage of the fight between Mike and Vern and jumped down behind Vern. When Micky landed, he swung the hoe towards Vern who had managed to push Mike off him and was now getting up. He must have still heard Micky because he quickly turned around and grabbed the hoe a second before it hit his head.

Vern ripped the hoe out of Micky's hands and swung it back at Micky. He ducked just in time but lost his balance and fell. Vern threw the hoe down on the ground and brought his other arm around to point the gun at Micky. Mike grabbed his arm and twisted causing Vern to shout in pain and drop the gun, which Micky lunged for. The whole time during the fight, Peter was trying to shout behind his gag; trying to alert them, no doubt, to the bombs. Micky just missed grabbing the gun when Vern kicked him in the stomach causing pain to erupt through him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and tried not to gasp in pain too loudly for fear of throwing Mike off; he knew if Mike thought he was in excruciating pain, he'd focus on Micky rather than his father and Micky knew that would be deadly. Now that the fight was on, Vern would no doubt set the bombs off now, and the only way to prevent that was to prevent him from reaching into his back pocket.

Micky forced his eyes open to see that Mike had managed to grab the gun himself, but had apparently been knocked to the floor. In the time it took Mike to force himself back up, Vern grabbed Micky by the hair and yanked him off the ground. He'd yanked a very large knife out of his pocket and now held it against Micky's throat so tightly that Micky could feel a small amount of blood start to escape. Mike pointed the gun directly at his father, but Vern was now using Micky as a shield which caused Mike to stop. At least he had both hands occupied, one holding Micky against him and the other holding the knife to his throat, which meant he couldn't reach the trigger in his back pocket. Silence filled the room for nearly a full minute.

"Why don't you be a good boy and put the gun down," Vern sneered.

"Let him go," Mike responded.

"You don't think I have a back-up plan?" Vern laughed.

"You kill him and I promise I will kill you," Mike said.

"You won't get a chance," Vern sneered. "Besides, even if you could, you don't have it in you."

"Try me," Mike said.

"I don't have to," Vern sneered. "I've seen you freeze before, boy. When your mother died, you just stood there like the scared little child you are." Mike's face twisted in rage like Micky had never seen before. He almost seemed like a different person.

"I was a child then," Mike said icily; he even sounded different. "I've grown now. Let. Him. Go."

"You really gonna shoot me?" Vern answered. "You might hit your friend here. You don't even know how to use that."

"Mike," Micky pled. "He's got this place rigged."

"Shut up!" Vern snapped and pulled the knife even tighter against his throat.

"Rigged?" Mike asked lowering the gun only slightly. "What do you mean?" Micky tried to tell Mike, but the knife was pressed so deeply against his throat that he couldn't even talk anymore.

"I told you I had a back-up plan," Vern said. "I'm going to make sure you die, boy. One way or another." Mike's eyes flicked around the room and Micky saw his eyes widen when he saw the bombs. "You shoot me and you'll have to make sure you kill me, or this place will blow. Now be a good boy and put down the gun." Mike hesitated a little and started to lower the gun. Micky realized that Mike desperately wanted to shoot Vern to save him and Peter but was afraid of hitting Micky on accident. So before Mike put the gun down all the way, Micky elbowed Vern in the stomach which caused Vern to let go just enough so Micky could duck. Mike took aim and pulled the trigger. Vern realized what was happening and jumped out of the way, but not all the way. The bullet ripped through Vern and he collapsed to the ground. Thinking Vern was down for the count, Mike turned and quickly untied Peter as Micky moved to try and get the detonator out of Vern's pocket. When he pulled the detonator out of Vern's pocket, however, Vern reached out and grabbed his wrist. Before Micky could react, Vern pushed the button and set the timer on the bomb. Micky saw the numbers on the detonator read 20 seconds. They had 20 seconds to leave.

"No!" Mike yelled having seen this as well.

"Trap door!" Micky yelled and pointed at the door he'd seen in the floor earlier while trying to pull away from Vern quickly. Mike and Peter turned and saw the trap door and Peter quickly yanked it open. They turned around and waited for Micky who was still trying to pull away from Vern unsuccessfully. Mike and Peter ran over to help Micky pull away from Vern, but Vern had reached with his free hand for a large, heavy bookend that had fallen next to him and hit Micky in the stomach with it, knowing know it was his weak point.

"They'll never leave without you," Vern said in Micky's ear as he doubled over and collapsed in pain. "He'll burn trying to save you." Mike stomped on Vern's arm which allowed Micky to slip out of his grasp and Peter pulled him away, but Micky was in too much pain now to move. Mike moved to help Peter carry Micky toward the trap door, but they were moving slower than they should have. Vern's words resonated through Micky as he realized they only had a few second left and Micky only slowing them down. He tried to move faster, but he just couldn't.

"Go," Micky said. "Leave me. I'm just weighing you down."

"Not happening," Mike answered.

"You only have seconds to get out," Micky argued. Peter was about to respond when they heard something explode above them. There had been a bomb upstairs that had apparently gone off early. They were all thrown to the ground with the force of the blow and when Micky looked up, half the second floor was now on fire. Peter had hit his head and was knocked out cold and a large beam had fallen on Mike's leg pinning him to the ground. Micky moved quickly knowing the other bombs would go off soon and helped Mike move the beam off his leg and helped Mike carry Peter down through the trap door. Mike jumped down next to Peter and moved to help Micky down, but before he could get down, the roof collapsed onto the second floor and the second floor caved in on them. The next thing Micky knew, a large four poster bed that was on fire fell on top of him at the same time another large explosion much larger than the first rocked the entire house.


	45. Buried

Author's Note: Ponderoso, I like reading your reviews. They make me laugh or smile when I read your reactions to my stuff. Don't worry about curbing your enthusiastic reviews because some people might be confused. I look forward to reading your enthusiastic reviews every time I post. Let's me know I'm doing something right in my writing.

Chapter 45: Buried

Davy drove to the school to pick up Marcy with Patty riding in the seat next to him. It had been a few hours since they'd spoken to Micky or Mike and Davy was growing increasingly worried. He knew having to take the buggy was slowing them down, but he still wished he could be in better contact with them. He really wished that he could be there with them so he could help them, but he had to admit that someone also had to take care of Patty and be here to pick up Marcy. He felt bad that he couldn't help his friends, but at least he could help Patty and Marcy.

"Do you really think Micky's going to be ok to take care of Marcy on his own?" Patty asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Davy asked. "He's not on his own. He has us."

"Yeah, but in order to take care of her properly, he'd have to give up his dream," Patty said. "He'd have to give up his music."

"Why do you ask?" Davy said.

"I just feel bad that Micky has to stop playing and focus on getting a decent job in order to take care of her," Patty answered. "It doesn't seem fair to me."

"No, it's not, but he loves her," Davy answered. "She's his sister."

"That's not what I'm questioning," Patty said. "I know he loves her. But I still feel bad for him."

"So do I," Davy said.

"What about the rest of you?" Patty asked.

"What?"

"If Micky stops playing, where does that leave the rest of you?"

"I don't know. I can't see us being the Monkees without him. I can't see us doing much without him."

"So you'd have to give up your dreams, too. You and Mike and Peter."

"I guess," Davy answered solemnly as they pulled into the parking lot at the school. They waited for a few minutes until the school let out and all the children came out with the teachers. Marcy saw Davy and Patty and ran up to them.

"Davy!" she exclaimed and hugged him. "Where's Peter?"

"Uh…" Davy started not expecting her to ask right away. "He and Micky and Mike had to go run an errand."

"When will they be back?" Marcy asked.

"I don't really know, but let's go home and wait for them, ok?" Davy said picking her up and hugging her. He realized he loved her as much as Micky did and he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. Mentally and physically. So as bad as he felt about lying to her, he had to do it to keep her safe. When they got back home, Patty sat down with Marcy and they drew pictures. When Marcy had finished, Davy looked at the picture and smiled. She'd drawn a picture of Mike, Peter, and him with Patty holding a baby and Micky holding Marcy.

"That's a good picture," Patty said.

"It's my new family," Marcy answered.

"That's really sweet," Patty said.

"When is the baby coming?" Marcy asked.

"Another couple of months," Patty answered. "Do you want to feel it?"

"What do you mean?" Marcy asked.

"The baby moves inside my stomach," Patty answered. "You can feel it moving if you touch my stomach. Do you want to feel?"

"Yeah!" Marcy said getting excited. Patty smiled and carefully put Marcy's hand on her stomach. Her face lit up after a minute and Davy knew she must have felt the baby move. "That's so cool!"

"Davy, do you want to feel?" Patty asked.

"I'm good," Davy answered. He was a little curious, but he knew it would be a little uncomfortable to touch the stomach of his best friend's sister.

"It's ok, Davy," Patty said. "You can if you want. It's not weird. Everyone touches a pregnant woman's stomach."

"You should!" Marcy giggled. "It's really cool!"

"Ok," Davy said and carefully reached out to feel the baby. After a minute, he felt something move inside her. It felt a little weird and he jumped back a little. But then he realized it; there was a human being inside her stomach. It solidified even more in him that he needed to protect them both from harm while Micky and Mike saved Peter.

* * *

Pain coursed through Mike's whole body as he tried to fight the blackness that tried to engulf him. His brain was fogged over and part of him was unsure of what was happening; his body was trying to shut down. But something was screaming at him that he couldn't black out. He had to do something, but he didn't know what. He forced his mind to try and focus on what he did know so the rest of the puzzle would come back. He was lying on the ground in enormous amounts of pain, but couldn't remember why. He rolled over and opened his eyes to see Peter lying on the ground next to him. He wasn't moving. Then he smelled smoke and suddenly felt very hot.

He'd been thrown to the ground by the force of the explosion. His head hurt after bouncing off the ground and his arms hurt for some reason. He remembered trying to reach for Micky so he could climb down into this hole with Peter and Mike safely, but there had been another explosion. Realization came flooding back as his body snapped back into consciousness. Micky needed his help. He forced himself up off the ground and didn't feel any pain anymore. He silently thanked the adrenaline rush that pumped through him because he knew he otherwise wouldn't have been able to do it. He tried to climb out of the hole, but something was blocking the trap door and no matter how hard he pushed, he just couldn't do it.

"Peter!" Mike yelled dropping down on the ground next to his fallen friend. "Peter, please wake up! I need your help. Micky needs us! Wake up!" Peter groaned a little but didn't wake up right away. Mike grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little.

"What?" Peter mumbled finally waking up.

"Peter, I need your help," Mike said quickly. "Micky needs us. He's up there and the bomb went off but we're trapped. I can't get us out of here; something's blocking the hole and it's too heavy for me."

"What happened to you?" Peter asked staring at Mike's hands and arms with utter fright. Mike looked at himself for the first time and realized he'd been burned badly.

"Don't worry about that right now," Mike said pushing his own fear for himself aside. He had no idea what had happened to Micky or if he was even still alive. "Micky's in trouble. He needs our help. We have to get up there."

"Right," Peter said pushing himself off the ground. Together they were able to finally push the object off the hole and climb out. Mike quickly realized it was an old refrigerator. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Mike admitted. He remembered Micky had been right there above him, but there was nothing there now. The building was nothing more than a burning shell now and smoke filled the air. Debris littered the ground, but Mike didn't see Micky anywhere.

"Micky!" Peter called, but they got no response. They started digging around through the rubble to find any sign of him and had only been at it a few minutes when Mike saw a four poster bed out of the corner of his eye a few feet away from him. He had remembered something about a bed falling from the second floor a split second before the second explosion and thought it may have landed on top of Micky. Mike rushed over and lowered himself to the ground to look under it. The bed was surprisingly intact, and Mike realized it had a steel frame rather than a wooden one. The mattress itself was on fire, but the frame was only slightly warped and bent. When he looked under the bed, he saw Micky unconscious and he was instantly filled with both relief and anxiety at the same time.

"I found him!" Mike yelled reaching under to try and pull him out. He could feel the heat from the flames on the mattress tickle his already burnt arms.

"Mike, don't," Peter said pushing Mike forcefully aside. "You're already hurt. Let me do it." Mike wanted to argue, but held his tongue knowing Peter was right. The only reason he'd wanted to be the one to pull Micky out was because he knew this was his fault. He had to redeem himself somehow. But he knew there was a better chance of saving Micky with Peter pulling him out because Mike's arms were already weak and crippled. So he watched apprehensively as Peter crawled slightly under the burning mattress to pull Micky out. He turned suddenly when he heard a noise behind him. Two people were running toward them; a man and a woman. They climbed through the burning frame, or what was left of it, to get to where Mike and Peter were with slightly scared looks on their faces.

"Come here," the woman said to Mike when they got there. She didn't wait for a response however; the woman just grabbed Mike by the waist and lifted him up. Mike resisted a little wanting to make sure that Micky was ok, but the man with the woman dropped down next to Peter and helped him carefully pull Micky out.

"Where's you dad?" Peter asked. Mike felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach. Did he really care where his father was?

"I don't know," was all that Mike could mumble as suddenly a third person arrived: a younger man than the first.

"Help is on the way," the man said.

"There's another man in there," the older man said.

"I'll find him," the second man said.

"He did this," Mike mumbled to the woman. Suddenly he felt very weak and like he wanted to black out again. The adrenaline was wearing off. But he had to make sure that these people knew his father had tried to kill them in case his father was still alive.

"What do you mean, sweetie?" the woman asked gingerly carrying him out into the field.

"He tried to kill me," Mike answered even more weakly than before. "He's an escaped fugitive. I shot him. I had to. He was going to kill us."

"It's ok, sweetie," she said sweetly as she finally let him stop and sit near the road far enough away from the house to be safe. "You're all going to be just fine."

"Who are you?" Peter asked as he walked next to the older man who was now carrying Micky easily in his arms. "Not that we aren't grateful for the help. Because we are. Very grateful."

"We own the farm on the corner over there," the woman answered. "My name is Denise and that's my husband Harry."

"I'm going back with Frank," Harry said setting Micky down gently on the ground.

"Be careful," Denise said as he ran off. Then she turned back to Mike and pulled something out of a bag that Mike hadn't noticed she was carrying. "Frank is our son. What are your names?"

"Mike," Mike answered as she placed several bandages over his arms. "Peter and Micky."

"Peter, can you do me a favor?" Denise asked and Peter nodded vigorously. "I want you to wrap these bandages around Mike's arms and hands. I want to look at Micky. The ambulance will probably take another 10 minutes to get here. That's the peril of being so far out here."

"I think my dad was counting on that," Mike said as she handed the bandages to Peter. "How did you know we were there? Isn't the farm supposed to be abandoned?"

"My husband and I are both retired military," she answered moving next to Micky and inspecting him starting from his head while Peter started carefully wrapping up Mike's arms. "I was an army nurse. Served in the war. My son followed my husband's footsteps and became a Marine. We saw Peter and your dad arrive this morning and noticed he was acting rather oddly, so we kept watch. Then we saw you two sneaking up to the house. When we heard the explosion, we came running and told our son to call 9-1-1."

"Thank you," Mike said. "Is he ok?"

"Looks like a small concussion," she said. "Major bruising on his stomach and several burns."

"He had surgery to repair a spleen about a month ago," Peter offered. "Vern hit him really hard."

"He'll probably need more surgery then," she said. "But as long as they do it soon, he'll be fine. What about you, Peter? Where are you hurt?"

"I think I just got knocked out," Peter answered.

"How do you feel now?" she asked.

"My head hurts," Peter answered. He was about to say more but realized that Frank and Harry were returning with a man in their arms. When they reached the area the boys were, they set him on the ground.

"He's been shot and burned pretty bad, but he's alive," Frank said.

"You were right, Harry," Denise said. "He set those bombs in that house. He's the fugitive we heard about on the news. He tried to kill these boys."

"I told those damn idiot cops to come up here this morning," Harry mumbled. "If those dimwits had half a brain in their collective heads, they would have come down here when I first told them something was up, this wouldn't have happened."

"Calm down, Dad," Frank said. "They're small town cops. They aren't used to dealing with people like him."

"It's ok," Peter said trying as always to please everyone. "All that matters is that we're alive and they're on the way to help now." Mike was about to say something about how it may have worked out worse because of the police scanner his dad had, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he felt like throwing up. He groaned, grabbed his stomach and leaned over the ground trying not to vomit.

"Is he ok?" Frank asked worriedly.

"Mike?" Peter said with his own worry-filled voice.

"If you need to throw up, go ahead," Denise said coming back over to Mike. "You probably have a concussion, too. I don't doubt the force of the explosion damaged your head." Mike took her advice and threw up. He felt a little better afterward, but the pain was still coursing through his body.

"He's recovering from a cracked skull," Peter said.

"Ok, just remember to breathe," Denise said. "If you don't breathe you could pass out or go into shock. Just stay relaxed and breathe." Mike tried to do what she told him, but his vision suddenly became a little hazy. Voices grew quieter and far away.

"I…I…" Mike stammered growing even weaker. "Peter?"

"I'm here, Mike," Peter said placing his hand on Mike's shoulder to let him know he was still there.

"Don't pass out, Mike," Denise said.

"I can't," Mike answered closing his eyes and feeling some sort of relief.


	46. Recovery

Author's Note: I made a little error in my last chapter. I had Davy driving a car in the last chapter when Peter's supposed to have it. Continuity error. Sorry. I hope I rectified it here. Also, I am having computer issues at the moment (it only runs in safe mode), but I plan on doing a system restore and reformat the hard drive once all my files (8 gigs of music and all the Monkees episodes) are backed up. In the meantime, my grandparents are letting me borrow their laptop so I can still get my homework done. But if there is a delay on posting my next chapter, I'm sorry. I lost half this chapter and had to re-type it, but now they're all backed up on a flash drive. Luckily my grandfather was able to get my computer to at least boot in safe mode, which it wasn't even doing before.

Chapter 46: Recovery

Peter sat next to Mike in his hospital room. The medics and police had shown up only a few minutes after Mike had passed out and taken them all to the hospital. Peter had only just finished giving his statement to the police who said they would inform Davy and Patty that they were ok. They were at least an hour or so out of Malibu and the Monkee mobile and buggy were still at the farmhouse so Davy really only had their neighbor's car to borrow to pick up Marcy in Micky's absence and as nice as Milly was, he doubted she'd let them use it to drive all the way out here. So Peter had no idea if they would even come, but Peter didn't care. He was here and that meant he would be here when Mike woke up.

Now that everyone trying to harm them was either behind bars or chained to a hospital bed, Peter finally felt like he could fully relax. It was only just now hitting him how tired he was and how little he'd really been able to sleep over the past month. So he leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes just a little. He didn't want to actually go to sleep because he wanted to be able to tell Mike everything that had happened when Mike did finally wake up, but he couldn't help it. He was just so tired from everything they'd been through and the little amount of sleep that he drifted. When he finally opened his eyes again, he realized Mike was awake and smiling at him.

"Hey, Mike," Peter said.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Mike answered.

"That's ok," Peter answered. "I wanted to be awake when you woke up anyway."

"Don't worry about me so much," Mike answered.

"How do you feel?" Peter asked ignoring Mike's comment.

"Pretty good, actually," Mike answered. "What happened? Is Micky ok?"

"He's back in surgery," Peter answered.

"Again?" Mike sighed. "I don't know how much more he can take."

"Yeah," Peter said. "I know how you feel, but I guess his spleen ruptured again. They said it was minor and they should be able to repair it so we shouldn't worry too much. He's got a few second degree burns on his chest and arms, but other than that, they said he's fine. He'll recover, but it'll take time."

"What about his head?" Mike asked. "He was unconscious when we found him."

"They said he probably passed out from the pain," Peter said.

"What about you?" Mike asked. "I hope you at least let the doctors check you out."

"I did," Peter smiled. "I'm fine. A few minor burns and bruises. A slight concussion, but nothing to worry about."

"Good," Mike said trying to push himself into a more upright position only to hiss loudly in pain.

"Don't do that," Peter said pushing Mike back down. "You can't use your hands. You have second degree burns all over your hands and arms and you cracked your skull a little again. I'll raise the bed for you instead."

"I can't use my hands?" Mike asked looking forlornly at his arms and hands which were heavily bandaged now. Peter felt a pang of sympathy for Mike; not being able to use his hands meant not being able to play, and that was a truly horrible thought.

"Just for a couple weeks," Peter said trying desperately to cheer his friend up. "Your hands are covered in blisters. They need to heal, but when they do, your hands will be good as new. Your dad is here, by the way. He's burned pretty bad. Second and third degree burns all over his body and they said the bullet went straight through his stomach. They closed the wound, but he'll be in the ICU for a while. The cops told me that they have him in restraints though just in case."

"I can't believe I shot him," Mike said silently.

"You had no choice," Peter said. "He was going to kill Micky."

"It's not that," Mike said. "Its…Never mind."

"It's ok, Mike," Peter said. Mike was normally a private person who didn't talk much about his feelings, even with his friends, but Peter knew that the first step for all of them to begin healing was to start talking about how they felt. "You can talk about it."

"I just didn't think I could," Mike said. "When he was holding that knife to Micky's throat, I was so scared. I felt like I did when I was a kid and my dad was pointing the gun at my mom. I was so scared I was going to freeze again like I did back then and Micky would…" Mike trailed off and closed his eyes. Peter saw a small tear escape and he felt bad for his friend. Mike didn't feel sorry for having shot his dad, but was relieved he was able to do it and guilty for not being able to have done it back then. He was questioning why he was able to save Micky and not his mother.

"I think your mother would be proud of you," Peter said wrapping his friend very carefully into a hug. "You saved Micky's life. You saved my life. Your mother would be proud of you."

"Why couldn't I save her?" Mike asked softly.

"You were a kid," Peter answered. "That's an awful lot to try and put on a kid's shoulder. I would have been surprised if you'd been able to do anything. But you did find the strength to testify against him. You avenged her that way. And today you were able to save Micky. Besides that, if you had tried to fight, who's to say you wouldn't have died too? You were too young to really put up a fight against a gun. She wouldn't have wanted you to die trying to save her. She wanted to give you the chance to live, and that's just what you did. And you became a great man, Mike. One of the greatest people I know."

"Thanks, Peter," Mike said. Peter knew Mike had a long ways to go before he could really cope with what had happened, but this was a start. They all had a ways to go before they could come to terms with everything. There was a soft knock on the door and Peter let go of Mike to sit back down.

"How are you?" the doctor asked after Mike told him it was ok to come in.

"Good," Mike answered. "No pain really."

"We've given you some pain killers to help manage it," the doctor answered. He briefly went over what was wrong with Mike which was only repeating what Peter said and telling Mike he had to take it easy for a while.

"How long until I can play guitar again?" Mike asked.

"I don't know," the doctor answered. "It takes a few weeks for burns of this caliber to heal properly. You'll have to rebuild calluses when you do, and I want to make sure the skin is intact before you do that."

"But I have to be able to play for us to make any money," Mike said. "We're musicians."

"I don't know what to tell you," the doctor said. "You will be in too much pain to really even hold anything in your hand for a while, let alone press down on guitar strings. You try and do it through the pain and you'll destroy your fingers for the rest of your life."

"Mike, we'll figure something out," Peter said. "I promise."

"If you're up for it, there are some people outside who want to see you," the doctor said.

"Sure," Mike answered. The doctor walked outside for a second and a second later, Davy, Marcy and Patty walked in.

"Mike!" Marcy exclaimed and ran up to hug him, but she couldn't quite reach him in the bed. Peter smiled and picked her up before setting her on the bed gently.

"Be very careful, Marcy," Patty warned. "His arms are very tender."

"It's ok," Mike smiled hugging Marcy back. Patty smiled and wrapped Peter in a large hug of her own.

"I was so scared," Patty whispered. "I was afraid that I'd never see you again."

"I'm ok," Peter said hugging her back. "It's finally over."

"They told us what happened to you guys, but they didn't say anything about Micky yet," Davy said.

"He's in surgery," Peter answered.

"He's going to be ok, though, right?" Marcy asked looking suddenly terrified.

"Absolutely," Peter answered. "He's a fighter, just like you. He can pull through this, but he and Mike are going to need our help for a while."

"I can help," Marcy smiled.

"I know you will," Peter said.

"But I don't understand why you even got hurt," Marcy said. "Davy said you were running errands."

"We were," Mike said. "We just had a little accident while we were out. We ran into a very bad person, but he's not going to hurt anyone anymore." They spent the next few hours together until visiting hours were over and they were forced to leave. Agent Mukada was waiting for them out in the hall.

"How are you, Peter?" he asked.

"Fine," Peter answered. "Just a headache."

"Good," he said.

"He drove us here," Marcy said.

"Thank you for that," Peter said.

"Any time," Mukada said. "I just wish you guys had told me what was going on so we could have done something to prevent some of this."

"We told you we couldn't," Davy said quietly trying to keep Marcy from hearing too much. "He would have killed Peter."

"Well, it's all over now," Mukada said. "Everyone is back in custody and charges are pending. Why don't I drive you back to get your car and you can all head home for the night."

"Why can't I see Micky?" Marcy asked sadly.

"We'll see him tomorrow," Patty said. "The doctors have to work on him a little more but he'll be better tomorrow."

"Ok," Marcy said a little sadly. Mukada drove them to their car and Davy hooked the buggy to it before they all got in. Over the next several days, Peter, Davy, Patty and Marcy all went to the hospital to visit Mike and Micky. Micky had woken up the day after his surgery and had immediately asked if Mike and Peter were ok, not having seen Peter sitting off to the side. Peter had carefully explained what had happened and assured him that both he and Mike were fine. Micky was told to stay in the hospital for the whole week for observation, but Mike was allowed to go home within a few days. His head had mostly healed, but his hands and arms had to stay wrapped. He'd get frustrated when he couldn't really pick anything up with his hands, but they tried to let him know that he had to listen to the doctor or it would be even longer before he could do anything with his hands again, including writing music or playing his guitar.

Detectives and federal agents came by to get Mike and Micky's statements as well. A district attorney came by the house and the hospital to sit down with everyone and discuss the charges that were pending for their families. Peter's parents and brother were both being charged with multiple counts of kidnapping, assault and attempted murder and were looking at spending the rest of their lives in jail. Percy was working out a plea deal, but his parents were trying to claim not guilty, but the evidence was so heavily stacked against them. The DA said he'd be willing to work out a deal with Percy to give him 50 years instead of life in exchange for his testimony against their parents, but wanted to make sure that the boys and Patty were ok with that. He had plenty of evidence to where he didn't need it, but it would make the trial a lot easier and save the taxpayers money. None of them had an issue with the plea deal since they knew by the time Percy got out, he'd be just old enough to retire anyway.

Davy's mother had pled guilty once she sobered up and was only facing around 10 years in prison plus extradition back to England once her time had been served. Davy had contacted his grandfather about the inheritance and had decided to let his grandfather handle everything. Out of the inheritance, there was only a small amount left. His father had a lot of debt racked up that his grandfather chose to pay off with some of the money instead of letting Davy inherit his father's debt as well. There was a little leftover for them to catch up on the rent they were behind and stock up on groceries, but not enough to last too long.

Micky's parents were trying to fight their charges too, but their lawyers were pushing them to take a plea because of all the evidence stacked against them. Not only did they have testimony from Marcy, Patty and the boys, but they had convinced Rugen to testify against them in exchange for a lesser sentence himself. He would only be charged with two counts of kidnapping and only get 10 years in jail instead of facing the same attempted murder charges Micky's parents faced. The DA also told them they had contacted a few people in the neighborhood and there were a few teachers at school, both Micky's and Marcy's, that were willing to testify to the fact that they either heard abuse coming from the home or they saw signs, both psychological and physical, of abuse on both children, though it was too late for them to be charged with abusing Micky. They were, however, being charged with trying to kill him. They were facing life in prison as well.

Vern Nesmith had yet to wake up from his injuries. He'd only been spared because a dresser had fallen on him shielding him from most of the explosion, though he'd still been severely burned and his legs were crushed because of the dresser. The doctor's weren't sure if he'd ever be able to use his legs again. He was facing life in prison for the murder of the police officers, kidnapping, assault, attempted murder, and evading arrest. He would likely never see the light of day again either. They were also planning on going through with re-charging Vern with his mother's murder and they were hoping that when he did wake up, he would just save everyone the trouble and plead guilty to all charges. But they would all have to testify against them in separate trials, so they realized the whole process would more than likely take years. But as long as they moved on with their lives, they were happy.


	47. Moving On

Author's Note: Ok, one more chapter after this. But I need your help. Not sure what gender to make the baby, so I'm gonna let my fans vote. Also, if there is anything you feel I haven't wrapped up or answered, let me know and I'll cover it in the last chapter that I hope to get up soon. Computer seems to be working after reformatting it to factory settings, but only time will tell. Lastly, I don't know what happens to someone's estate when they go to jail and I tried to research it, but couldn't find anything so don't get mad if I got it wrong. It works for what I wanted to have happen.

Chapter 47: Moving On

"Mike, will you stop fussing for five minutes and let me help you!" Patty said exasperatedly. Mike had been trying to pour himself a bowl of cereal, but not having much luck. He didn't feel pain when he touched anything anymore, but with the bandages, it made holding things difficult.

"If I take off the bandages, I could manage on my own," Mike argued.

"Well, the doctor said another week at least," Davy retorted from his spot on the couch where he was lacing his boots. "So you're leaving those on even if we have to glue them to your hands."

"I think that might hinder the healing process," Peter said seriously not getting that Davy was joking.

"We could always wrap duct tape around his arms and hands," Patty answered. Marcy, who'd been sitting on Peter's lap with her own bowl of cereal giggled.

"Alright fine," Mike sighed sitting down. They'd been fighting with this all week, but Mike had yet to relent. Mike didn't want anyone taking care of him. He was always the one in the "older brother" position of the group. He took care of them; not the other way around. And he especially didn't like being spoon fed like a child. It had been the most humiliating week of Mike's life and he grumbled knowing it was only going to last another week. He was looking forward to Micky coming home from the hospital so the boys and Patty would have someone else to fuss over and maybe they'd leave Mike alone for a bit.

"Haven't we been over this, Mike?" Patty sighed pouring him a bowl of cereal. "You're more stubborn than a child, you know that?"

"No, I'm not," Mike snapped stung a little. "I just hate being coddled over."

"You aren't," Patty answered putting the cereal down in front of him and sitting in the chair next to him. "You're being taken care of. And I only said you were stubborn because we've had this very argument every day this week. Give up. You aren't going to win. Those bandages stay on as long as the doctor says to keep them that way. Unless, of course, you are ok with never playing the guitar again."

"Of course I'm not," Mike said staring forlornly at his guitar on the other side of the room. He could already make out a small layer of dust over it and felt a small pang in his heart. He'd felt an emptiness in his heart since the night at the hospital when he'd been told he couldn't use his hands. Micky being gone was part of it, but they at least visited him every day. He couldn't even feel his guitar through the bandages whenever he at least tried to rest his hand on it.

"Micky's coming home today, right?" Marcy asked pulling Mike out of his depressive thoughts.

"That's what the doctors said yesterday," Davy said. "And since its Saturday, you don't have to worry about school so you can spend the whole day with him."

"I like that," Marcy said. After about an hour, they left to go get Micky from the hospital. When they brought him home, he was told to stay on bed rest, again, and like Mike, he tried to get out of it. He didn't really want to be fussed over any more than Mike did, but Patty, Davy and Peter put up the same fight with Micky. Marcy even suggested they duct tape Micky to the couch when he tried to get up for a glass of water. In the next few days, the doctor finally let Mike go from having his fingers completely bandaged closed to only being partially bandaged. Which didn't mean he could start playing the guitar again, but at least he could hold a spoon. He could feel things again and as soon as he took the bandages off and flexed his fingers, he ran them over the wood on his guitar. He never thought he'd miss such a small thing as being able to touch something.

* * *

After only a few days of being home, Micky had gotten used to people getting things for him. He didn't like it, but he knew better than to fight his friends on it. Mike had always countered with a look that said "if I have to deal with it, so do you", and Micky had left things be after that. There was no way he was going to let Mike go against the doctor's orders for even a second, and that meant he had to as well. Whether he liked it or not. Things weren't all bad for him. He had burns on his chest and Davy and Peter took turns changing the bandages and putting the burn cream on him, which was always freezing since the pharmacist said they had to keep it in the icebox. Marcy had shown him her good grades and her advanced homework in the hopes of trying to make him feel better. He did feel better knowing that Marcy was doing so well, but he still felt miserable wondering how in the world he'd be able to continue supporting her. The little bit of money from Davy's inheritance was fast disappearing and Micky felt bad that they were using Davy's inheritance anyway.

Peter and Davy had gone out several times to try and find a steady job, but hadn't had much luck. Patty had been offered the job at the doctor's office and she would start once she had the baby and was ready to work, but in the meantime, she didn't have an income. No one would hire someone five months pregnant. Micky also wondered briefly how she was going to support her baby. Peter finally got a job as a dishwasher at a restaurant up the street working 40 hours a week, but Davy still hadn't found anything. When Peter came home after his first few days at work, he'd always collapse on the couch next to Micky and he looked extremely exhausted. Micky dreaded when the rest of them would have to do that. He looked over at their makeshift stage and realized that they would be too tired and exhausted to really play.

"Micky, can I talk to you?" Patty asked after a couple weeks of him being home. He was now allowed to get up and walk around and get things for himself, but he still had to take it easy. Mike was at a follow-up appointment with his doctor to check his hands which Micky thought had healed, Peter was at work, Marcy was at school and Davy was job hunting which left just the two of them.

"Of course," Micky answered.

"I wanted to propose something to you," Patty said. "I know it's going to be hard to raise Marcy and because of that, you'll have to give up your dreams of being a musician. All of you will."

"Yeah, but I don't want her going into foster care," Micky answered sighing heavily. "As much as I don't want to give up my dreams, I don't really have much of a choice."

"What if you did?" Patty said.

"Put her in foster care?" Micky asked.

"No, what if you had a choice?" Patty answered. "I talked to the DA and I've been talking to a few lawyers over the past month my parents have been in jail and I think I have a solution that works for everyone."

"What?" Micky asked curiously.

"Since your parents are going to be convicted of attempted murder and child-abuse, the state will strip away their rights," Patty answered. "Which means that Marcy can be adopted by someone else. What if I adopted her?"

"What are you talking about?" Micky asked.

"She loves me," Patty started. "And you know I would do everything right by her."

"I know that, but you can't afford it any more than we can," Micky said. "Actually more so because you'll have a kid of your own to support."

"Actually, I can," Patty said. "That's why I've been talking to a lawyer. Peter and both have discussed a few things with them. Since my parents decided to plead guilty, they forfeited their estate. Peter and I have already made arrangements to seize it as their next of kin and we've discussed what we want to do with it."

"Peter didn't say anything to me about that," Micky said.

"I asked him not to yet," Patty said. "Most of the money came from very bad places: murder, bribery, extortion, so Peter and I don't want it. It's blood money. We are going to take the money and donate it to several charity organizations that deal with child abuse and domestic violence. But we did manage to sell the house that's been in our family for years and a lot of the antiques they've collected over the years. I got more than enough to buy a house not far from here that's a three bedroom house, plus extra for furniture and more to hold me for a couple of years. Peter is getting enough to pay off all your guys' hospital bills and pay rent for the next 6 months. I wanted him to take more, but he said he wanted me to have the most if I took care of Marcy. This way, Marcy would have a nice home and she'd still be close enough to you to see you any time you guys want, and you don't have to worry about finding full time jobs to take care of her. You could keep pursuing your dreams."

"I can't ask you to shoulder this, Patty," Micky said. It did sound like a good idea, but he didn't want someone else to take on something that should be his responsibility.

"You aren't asking, Micky," Patty smiled. "I love Marcy and she loves me. We're already a family in each other's hearts, this would just make it legal and it allows you to keep playing music while still being a part of her life."

"You don't want to go back home?" Micky asked.

"My home is here now," Patty said. "I have nothing else back there. I have Peter here and Marcy here. And you, Mike and Davy. I never thought I would gain a whole new family when I left, but I have. I want to do this for you, Micky. For you and her. You'd still be a major part of her life. I would tell you everything that she does and the house I was looking at is walking distance from here. You can come over whenever you want. I'll even give you a spare key."

"Are you sure about this?" Micky asked.

"Positive," she smiled again. "It's a win, win for everyone."

"If Marcy and the guys are ok with it, then sure," Micky said after thinking about it for a minute. He really did trust Patty to raise Marcy well and he was glad to have a little hope that they wouldn't have to give up playing music. But more than anything, he wanted Marcy to be ok with it as well as the rest of the guys. Patty was right about one thing: they were all a family. They were all the family each other had. So when Marcy got home from school after Mike and Davy had picked her up, she excitedly bounded up to show Micky the A she'd gotten on her spelling test. Peter walked in a few moments after that looking just as exhausted as he had every day before that. Micky and Patty told Marcy and the others her idea and Marcy seemed a little hesitant.

"I wouldn't live with you guys?" Marcy asked.

"No, you would come and live with me in a nice big house just down the street," Patty answered.

"Trust me, it'll be less crowded and you'll like that," Micky said. "Especially as you get older. You'll want as much privacy as you can get and you won't want four guys living with you. It'll scare away the boys you like."

"And you can come over any time of day or night you want," Peter said. "We'll still be here for you."

"I think it'll be good for you," Mike agreed. "You may not really understand it now, but it'll be easier for Micky if you lived with Patty."

"You guys wouldn't have to work so much and could still play your music," Marcy said surprising them with how much she actually did understand.

"It's a lot harder to support 5 people than it is to support 3," Davy said.

"And I can still come over whenever I want?" Marcy asked.

"Just so long as you tell Patty where you're going so she doesn't worry about you," Micky said.

"But won't Patty still have to work hard to make enough money to take care of me?" Marcy asked.

"I have enough to start with from my parents," Patty said. "And after the baby's born, I will start work as a receptionist making enough to support us. It'll be hard, but I have to do it for my child anyway. It won't be perfect and you won't be able to have everything you want, but you'll have everything you need."

"And we will help whenever we can," Micky threw in.

"I don't want anything," Marcy said looking up at her. "I just...I just want a family. Not like mommy and daddy. But a family that loves me. A family like the other kids at school have."

"You will always have a family," Peter said pulling her into a warm hug.

"That's right," Davy said. "And even though we won't be living with you, we will still love you."

"And we can still scare away potential boyfriends from a distance," Mike joked. Micky smiled, but he really didn't want to think about that stuff just yet. He doubted he'd ever let anyone date his sister. He doubted anyone would be good enough for her after what she'd already been through.

"Then I guess I'm ok with that," Marcy said after a few moments. "I will miss living here, but I don't want you to stop playing and have to work so hard because of me."

"Then it's a deal," Micky said. The rest of the week, Patty and Peter made arrangements with the money from the sale of their parent's estate. Later in the week, a lawyer came to discuss arrangements for Micky's parent's estate as well. They had finally decided to plead guilty as well. There wasn't much to his parent's estate, but they did have the house and some money. Most of it was used on attorneys for their trial, but since Micky was their next of kin, he automatically took over for them as power of attorney since they would also never again see the light of day. So Micky made arrangements to sell their house and assets as well. He gave their car to Patty so she would have one to drive Marcy around and he told the lawyers that when the house does sell to put 75% of the money to go into a college fund for Marcy. He would use 15% to help pay rent and other bills over the next few months while the boys were recovering so it wasn't all stacked on Peter and Davy while the rest went to Marcy so she could get whatever she needed for her new home and school.

When it came time for Patty to move into the house she'd picked out a month later, Micky went with them, but wasn't allowed to actually help them move. Mike had healed completely, so it was up to him, Davy and Peter to help. Milly's husband loaned them a truck, of course, to move all the furniture she had bought into the new house. Marcy had already checked out the house and had decided how she wanted her room to be set up with the furniture from her room at her old house, but Micky and Patty surprised her with new furniture. Micky knew the furniture she had was falling apart and old, seeing as how most of it was his. Peter even painted her room her favorite color: pink. He also painted a few little designs on the walls to make the room even more fun. They didn't know the baby's gender yet, so Peter painted the baby's room red with fun neutral designs. When Marcy saw the room after it had been set up, she got incredibly excited and started bouncing around, much like Micky did when he got excited. When the truck was unloaded, they rested for a while and shared a pizza before unpacking. Micky tried to help a little, but his friends told him not to lift a finger. So instead, he sat in Marcy's room while she unpacked everything and talked excitedly about everything she could think of.

Over the next few months, they spent a lot of time over at Patty's place helping her out when they could. Marcy continued to excel in school and the boys had finally been able to start practicing again. They even had a few auditions and landed two gigs: a wedding and a sweet 16 party. Both paid well, but since the boys were caught up on all their bills, they put it away in case they needed something. It was only 2 months after Patty had moved in to their new house that they gathered for dinner. When they finished dinner, Patty got up to get ice cream for everyone when she leaned against the counter in pain. All four boys immediately jumped up and rushed to her side.

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"I think that was a contraction," Patty said through gritted teeth.

"I thought you weren't due till next month," Mike said worriedly.

"The doctor said I could give birth a little prematurely because of the complications," Patty answered.

"Should we take you to the hospital?" Davy asked. As a way of answering, Patty cried out in pain again and clutched her stomach.

"Ok, we're going to the hospital," Mike said helping carry her outside to the car.

"What's going on?" Marcy asked.

"The baby might be coming," Micky answered. "You ready for that?"

"Yeah," Marcy answered. "But is it supposed to hurt Patty?"

"Unfortunately," Micky answered with a smile and scooped her up to carry her out to the car.


	48. Epilogue

Author's Note: Very short, but there's not much to wrap up. And I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 48: Epilogue

Micky sat in the hospital waiting room with Mike, Marcy and Davy. Peter had gone back into the room with Patty, but while the doctors checked on Patty they were told to wait out here. Micky was growing a little tired of waiting and wanted to make sure that Patty and the baby were going to be ok. Marcy was nervously fidgeting as well as she sat on his lap. The doctors had given her some magazines to look at, but she couldn't focus on them. Not that Micky could blame her; he couldn't focus on much of anything either. After about half an hour of waiting, Peter came out to tell them what the doctors said.

"They said the baby is coming," Peter said.

"Isn't it a little early?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, but they said it should be fine," Peter said. "It just may be a little small. It's because of the complications she had earlier with the tearing. The doctors said you can come see her for a few minutes if you want, but her water broke not long after we got here, so they expect her to go into labor soon. Once she's ready, you guys will have to wait out here again."

"That's good," Davy said. "They're sure the baby is going to be ok?"

"Yeah," Peter answered. "But we really don't have much choice. She's going into labor whether the baby's ready or not. It's too early to tell what all the complications might be from having a premature baby."

"Well, let's hope for the best," Mike said. They made their way into the room where Patty was lying on the bed. She looked like she was a little in pain, but more exhausted than anything else. They visited with her for a while and every so often she'd gasp in pain and clutch her stomach. Marcy would get worried and Micky had to tell her that it was completely normal for her to be in pain. After being in the hospital room for over an hour, her contractions were too close and the doctors said they had to leave because she'd have to give birth soon. So they went back out into the waiting room and waited while Peter stayed behind to support his sister. It took nearly a full hour for Peter to come back out in the waiting room.

"It's a boy," Peter said with a large smile plastered on his face. Everyone ran up to hug him.

"Congrats, Uncle Pete!" Micky smiled.

"Is the baby ok?" Marcy asked.

"The baby's fine," Peter answered. "He's a little small. About 6 pounds, but they think the baby might grow into it."

"It won't really matter if he is small," Mike said. "Just look at Davy; he's the shortest guy on the planet and still manages to get plenty of girls."

"I am not the shortest!" Davy protested.

"No, just one of the shortest," Micky laughed.

"They're going to take him to the neonatal intensive care just to make sure," Peter said. "But they said he appears to be fine. Good lungs, good heartbeat."

"How's Patty?" Mike asked.

"Good," Peter said. "Recovering normally. She'll be out for a while." After several more hours, they were able to go into Patty's room with her again and the doctors brought the baby in. Patty held the baby and started crying.

"Why are you crying?" Marcy asked.

"I'm just so happy," Patty answered. "He's so beautiful."

"He is," Micky agreed looking down at the beautiful baby boy in Patty's arms. "He has his mother's smile."

"That's sweet, Micky," Patty said. "Thank you."

"What's his name?" Marcy asked.

"I don't know yet," Patty said. "Maybe Alan. After his father."

"I think that would be perfect," Peter said with a smile. When they went home, the boys decided that they would take turns taking care of Patty and the baby since she was supposed to stay on bed rest for a while. Alan Tork Jr, as Patty had named him, was a well behaved baby that barely even cried. They helped feed, change, and wash the baby as much as they could. Their lives weren't going back to normal, but they were becoming near perfect again. Micky's vision had completely returned with no ill effects. Mike and Micky's burns had healed and barely even left a scar.

Vern had woken up not too long after Alan had been born. He had been read his rights and transferred to the hospital ward in the prison. His lawyer had told him that he had no other option than to plead not guilty by reason of mental disease or defect. Mike thought this was insane in and of itself. But the DA assured them that he doubted the ploy would work; there wasn't much substance to the insanity plea. They took some solace in the fact that he would be scarred for the rest of his life by the burns on his body and his legs were permanently damaged.

Tommy and Barty and the rest of the crew the Monkees identified as having helped the Torks were rounded up and arrested and charged with accessory and sentenced to serve 10-25 years in prison based on the amount of help they gave the Torks. Some worked out deals with the DA to serve lesser terms in exchange for testimony against Peter's parents and other members of the organization the Torks headed up. It took time, but it slowly toppled as other members were identified and charged. Cyril was charged with kidnapping as well, but no one else was found to be culpable in kidnapping Peter and Micky. His father had no idea Cyril had gotten wrapped up in any of the mess his son was wrapped up in. So in the end, the criminals were charged and the Monkees moved on with their lives, hoping to never again have to deal with any of their vile relatives. They would do anything to keep their youngest and newest member away from them.

The End...?


End file.
